The Wood Sculptor
by gneebee
Summary: WINNER BEST CLASSIC 2017 MOONSHINE AWARDS Daryl is a renowned Wood Sculptor, Beth Greene is just starting her art career and rents the shop next to his. ..."the last thing he wanted to have happen was to ever be attracted to a woman. But when she looked at him with those big blues eyes it was like they were reeling him in." Daryl Dixon Beth Greene Romance / Drama AU no ZA
1. Chapter 1

**A/N Thanks so much for stopping by. I hope you enjoy this new Bethyl story. I was inspired by the scene of Daryl whittling in S2, back on the Greene farm.**

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 **The Wood Sculptor**

Mama and Daddy weren't happy with her decision, she understood their disappointment and she didn't fault them for being concerned.

She'd successfully completed her four years of undergrad at the Savannah College of Art and Design and gotten her degree. Then she'd gone on to earn a Master's Degree in art history. She'd immediately gotten three prestigious employment offers, two with renowned museums and one as an instructor at a private college.

And she'd simply walked away from all of that opportunity.

She could afford to, well at least for a little while. She had a college trust her maternal Grandmother had setup for her the day she was born. It was intended to pay for her educational expenses but since she'd received several scholarships, the bulk of the trust fund money remained. There was enough to help her build her dream and support herself for a couple of years, as long as she was careful how she spent that money. Of course Grandma had expected it would be used to pay for her college education, including an advanced degree. But she was just sure if anyone would understand her wanting to follow her dream it would be Grandma.

She knew her parents were worried about her future and her security, and she got it. What she felt sure of was, when you want something bad enough sometimes you just have to take a chance, a leap of faith.

Her dream was to open her own studio and do what she enjoyed doing most, painting. She hoped her works would sell, but she felt if she hadn't "caught on" by the time the money ran out, at least she'd always know she gave it a shot.

And what could be better than pursuing her dream in the beautiful historic district of downtown Savannah? There was the art, the culture and the true Southern hospitality, all things she loved and wanted to surround herself with.

She'd gotten a tip on what seemed to be the perfect rental unit, one that not only did she feel she could actually afford, but it was located right where she wanted to be. She was interested in leasing a true artists' unit, one she could live in but that would also serve as her studio and small storefront. Her big hope now was it was at least half decent because it sounded too good to be true. And it did seem to be some kind of a given, things always sounded better on paper or on the internet than they actually were.

The charm began with the buildings' exterior which was a classic low country design. It was white, two stories and featured a very nice front porch, columns and a dark roof. As she entered the Wood Sculptor's storefront a little bell above the door chimed. It would be difficult not to be a little overwhelmed stepping in, the shop was full of the most beautiful and intricate wood carvings she'd ever seen; the whole place had a kind of natural earthy vibe to it.

She recognized the unique and exquisite work immediately, and she couldn't help but stop and admire some of the stunning pieces. She felt almost compelled to reach her hand out and touch the carvings, but she didn't want to take a chance on disturbing anything, or overstepping. She'd heard the sculptor was a very temperamental sort, and she certainly didn't want trouble with him, he was after all very possibly her new landlord.

There was an attractive dark haired woman working behind the counter who asked, "Can I help you with anything today? We have several new pieces."

"Oh thank you. Every piece is just so lovely and so precisely detailed and perfect, I could look at them all day. But for now I'm here about the rental unit, my name's Beth Greene, I called yesterday."

"Oh yes hello I've been expecting you," the woman smiled, putting her a little at ease, "Nice to meet you Beth, I'm Tara. He's in his studio let me just run tell him you're here."

And the woman left her standing there admiring a sculpture of a manatee and its calf while she went to find the artist.

When she saw him she nearly fainted, she'd been right it, was _the_ Daryl Dixon. Oh my God, Maggie and Glenn had spent a small fortune to buy one of his works. It was a saddle-less horse rearing up and obviously frightened and angry, its nostrils were flaring and its rider was desperately trying to keep hold of the horses' mane. They had it proudly displayed in their living room.

She was more than a little panicky at just the thought of meeting the sculptor. It wasn't only his talent or his notoriety and reputation, it was him. He looked kind of dangerous and almost as though he was scowling. His dark shaggy hair gave him an unkempt appearance, it wasn't that it looked dirty it was just messy, as though he never combed it. The hair combined with his facial scruff, those piercing and hard blue eyes, plus his impossibly squared shoulders and muscular build, well he was definitely quite the package, and the package was very intimidating. And very, very sexy.

"So you're the one that talked ta Tara lookin' ta rent the studio space?" And then that right there, that was the finisher, his coarse voice with the backwoods "honey-dripping-from-it" southern drawl.

"Yes I'm Beth Greene."

"Yeah well it ain't real fancy Beth Greene but it's good sized and the livin' area is pretty well separated from the work area," And then he moved his mouth into what she supposed was a smile, small and tightlipped, "Yeah separated alright, there's a damn big-ass brick wall right down the center a the room." He shook his head slightly, "I don't know whose bright idea that was but at least there's a nice open arch down at the far end of it. I s'pose ya could put a curtain or sumthin' up, ya know, let folks know ya don't want 'em wanderin' into your studio or your livin' area. Or you could just get a gun n shoot anyone who tried." And the way he'd said that he almost sounded serious.

"Quit it Daryl you're going to scare Beth. Just show her the rental for gawd sake."

He turned to Tara, "Well yes ma'am whatever ya say, shit I thought I's the boss around here."

They both sounded a little pissed and Beth couldn't tell if they were serious or goofing around. She wondered if they were a couple.

As they walked across the open vestibule area between the shops he asked her, "What kind a storefront ya thinkin' 'bout openin'?"

"I paint, my medium is watercolors. I do mostly seascape pieces but I love old south charm so I also paint some southern gardens. I don't plan on selling other artists' work in the shop, just my own, at least for now."

"Yeah well your watercolors oughta be popular around here. But how ya gonna pay the rent 'til your business gets off the ground? The last person that leased this joint stiffed me for two month's rent."

She didn't share her story, there was no need, she simply said, "I have enough money set aside to keep me going for a couple of years."

* * *

The unit was everything she'd hoped for and so much more. The shop area wasn't too big and that's what she wanted, a cozy feel. The brick wall would actually be great for hanging some of her pieces, it would present a nice contrast to set them against. The wood floor, the wood trim, the gorgeous wood counter, all of it was perfect looking. It was obvious it had been restored with a loving hand respectful of the history and the beauty of the old wood.

"Did you do the restoration yourself Mr. Dixon?"

She'd swear he snorted at her, "Name's Daryl." Then he got a serious look to him, "Yeah I done it all, I guess I didn't trust no one else ta do it right. Sounds bigheaded don't it? I ain't really that, but I am particular about the look a wood an how it's treated. Tara says I'm like some fussy old lady." Then yes, Tara probably was his girlfriend.

The studio area was small as well but it was plenty big enough to suit her needs, and the truth was she always preferred to paint outside when she could.

He showed her the living area which consisted of a single room separated only by its furnishings. It was perfect. There was a double bed at one end and next to it a small antique bedside table, it held a lamp with an old-fashioned beaded shade. There was a small bureau and instead of a closet an armoire.

In what was the living room area of the open room there was a small sofa and two cozy chairs, an antique coffee table and two side tables. Her eyes were drawn to a small antique desk, what they once called a ladies writing desk, it was so lovely. The kitchen area featured a small fridge, a smaller stove, an ancient porcelain sink with equally ancient plumbing fixtures, wooden countertops, open storage shelves and a small dining table with two chairs. Everything was so masterfully restored even those old plumbing fixtures looked almost new.

"Everythin's furnished 'cept the beddin' n your towels n whatnot like that. There's some dishes, probably not enough. If ya take the place I don't care if ya move in your own things, just let me know so's I can move these ta my storage. And don't paint any woodwork. Oh, I guess I oughta show ya the bathroom."

It seemed he'd saved the best for last. The tile was art deco and an small antique dresser had been re-purposed as a vanity with a beautiful hand-painted vessel sink. But the best thing was the old claw foot tub.

She realized the antique furnishings and old fixtures probably wouldn't appeal to just anyone, but they appealed to her.

"My gosh Daryl I can't believe how beautifully restored everything is. I wouldn't dream of changing a thing. It's like a museum of old south style and charm."

She thought he looked embarrassed by her words. "Yeah thanks, um there's a common courtyard out back c'mon an I'll show ya. If ya decide ta take the place you're welcome ta use it, have a couple a friends by, but no parties or nuthin' like that. It's supposed ta be a private area for just relaxin'. You're welcome ta grill n eat out there, read, have a couple drinks, whatever ya like that way. But I ain't one for parties n such as that, I like the quiet."

As they walked to the courtyard she asked, "So you live here as well?"

"Yeah, the whole upstairs of the buildin' is my place. There's just the two downstairs shops, yours if ya take it, an mine."

The courtyard, just like the rental unit, was all traditional old south charm. There was a cut stone walkway through lush trimmed hedges and beautiful and colorful flowers planted in such a way they gave the feeling of organized chaos. The gnarled myrtle trees added a kind of lazy French Quarter vibe, and in the center there was an imposing fountain complete with water lilies. She was certain he'd made the beautiful outdoor sofa and chairs himself; they were far too exquisite to be store bought. Off to the back was a striking arched gate that led to a private rear parking area.

"My gosh Daryl this whole place is just gorgeous. I'd never want to leave the shop and this courtyard."

Finally he smiled a real smile, but again she noticed he looked embarrassed, "Yeah that's how I am. I mostly just hang here unless I'm out searchin' for wood, or fishin' or huntin'. Other than that, I drink my beer right here in the courtyard. I ain't much for a big social life."

She smiled, "I'm the same, well not about the hunting and searching for wood," she laughed softly, nervously, "But the social life part. I always think it sounds like so much fun, going out and partying or whatever, but the truth is I'm a homebody. Shoot I'm even nervous about the shop because of, well you know, dealing with people all the time."

It was almost as though he loosened up a little. "Yeah I know what ya mean that's why I got Tara. I do the carvin' Tara deals with the people."

Thank God she'd caught herself before she asked him the question foremost on her mind, "Is Tara your girlfriend?" If that had slipped out she swore she would have turned and run right out that gorgeous back gate.

She said she'd like to take the place and he was happy to have the unit rented out, not because he needed her rent money but because it looked bad when the storefront next to him was empty. And he'd hoped another artist would move in, not a hair salon or a souvenir shop. Tara always told him they needed a "complimentary" business next door, and he listened to her because she knew about people and he didn't know shit about them.

He just wished Beth Greene wasn't so attractive and so damned appealing, because the last thing he wanted to have happen was to ever be attracted to a woman. But when she looked at him with those big blues eyes it was like they were reeling him right in.

* * *

He'd almost gotten sucked into a relationship once and that one time had cured him of ever wanting that with anyone. The woman, a metal sculptor named Paula kept coming around. She was just getting started in the art world and he'd already achieved success and notoriety. At first it was like she just wanted to talk to him about his art and art in general, and she seemed pretty nice. Then she started asking him to please take her with him here and there to meet the "right" people. She seemed to know of every gallery opening, art gathering, artists' private showing and parties attended by people in the art community.

She'd ask to tag along and he thought she was nice and interesting and all and he didn't mind helping her get a start, so he'd take her. It did make him uncomfortable the way she'd hang on his arm, or rub on his back, or move herself closer into him when they were in public. But he just kept telling himself it was because she was nervous in front of all the influential artists, critics and wealthy collectors.

Soon she started trying to move real fast with the physical but he was more into taking it slow, he just wasn't sure he had or that he ever would have those kinds of feelings for her. He didn't want to hurt anyone or take advantage of a situation.

Merle had tried to warn him what she was, "Ya got yourself some fame now n she's all about promotin' herself by usin' ya, bein' seen with ya. She's one a them famewhores. Trust me on this one little brother, she's trouble." He'd fought with his brother over it, accused him of being jealous, it had almost come to blows between the brothers.

Then one morning Tara came in and asked to speak to him privately, in his office. She'd turned on his computer and showed him pictures on the various social media sites, and even a little film on YouTube someone had put together. They were all photo manipulations showing him with Paula. They were everywhere including the gossip sites, and the copy and the photos all implied they were lovers having some kind of serious affair. She'd even given an interview to some gossip rag where she'd implied they had some serious plans for their future.

He'd been crushed. Not because he cared for her so much but because he'd been so used. Merle was right all along, she was using him to further her career. What it did was instill within him a strong belief that people couldn't be trusted; the world was full of assholes. And so he'd begun to remove himself more and more from the world. He soon had a reputation as a temperamental recluse and he didn't give a fuck. He just wanted to be left alone to do the things he loved, hunting, fishing and wood carving.

He left the running of the business and the dealing with people to Tara, she was the perfect friend and employee for him. She could be hard-assed with him when he needed it, but she was also a loving and caring, and he knew she didn't have the least bit of interest in him for anything other than their close friendship.

He had a very small circle of people he was willing to spend his time with, Tara and her girlfriend Denise, Merle and his woman Karen, his long-time friend Rick Grimes and his wife Michonne and their children; they were the only people he completely trusted and felt somewhat at ease around.

The fact that he kept himself so removed from the public eye had sparked incredible interest in his work. His price tag had shot right up. He was often referred to as "Mysterious" which seemed to have some kind of prestige and value to it. That always gave him a good laugh. He figured he was about as mysterious as any other dumbass redneck.

But shit, now here was this Beth Greene woman and she was already right there playing around in his head, non-stop.

She just kept telling herself the only reason she was having this attraction to Daryl Dixon, and couldn't seem to get him off her mind, was because he was so talented. Okay yes true, that and the fact that he was also way too handsome and way too sexy. But as nice as he seemed she'd heard he was as moody as all get out and that he didn't care for people at all.

Still it seemed to her when he showed her the rental and the courtyard he wasn't moody or mean, it was more like he was uneasy and kind of awkward and shy. Maybe she'd just felt that way because she admired his work, especially his restorations.

* * *

Three days later she was moving in. She'd rented a small U-Haul trailer and Aaron had not only helped her move her things in, he'd helped her set up her studio and the shop. He was such a great friend to her she'd never be able to repay all of his kindnesses. When they were done for the day she'd asked him, "You won't let me pay you so how about a glass of wine and some fancy cheeses in the courtyard, can I at least treat you to that?"

"Now you're speaking my language Beth that sounds wonderful."

He hadn't meant to be spying on her, not at all, but his studio window looked right out on the courtyard and there she was. With some tall handsome drink of water. Well then he supposed there was no worry she'd be interested in him. Thank God.

Except for some reason it bothered the shit out of him.

And when the guy stood to leave she hugged him, he kissed her cheek and they smiled at each other. Daryl Dixon felt just the slightest twinge of something. And after trying real hard to deny it, he finally admitted to himself what it was, he was a little jealous.

When Aaron left she walked into Daryl's storefront to let Tara know she was all moved in, "I'm so excited Tara, I mean sure I'm a nervous wreck and scared out of my mind, but darn I'm excited. This studio and shop have been my dream for so long."

"Good for you Beth, there's no time like the present to follow a dream. Myself, I don't have one speck of artistic ability. Daryl and I have talked about my extreme lack of artistic talent over good wine many, many times. But that's not what I'm here for anyway, he's the talent and I'm the one with the sales and business savvy. Together we make a pretty great team."

Beth went with it, later she might beat herself up for asking, but it didn't seem to bother Tara one bit. "So you and Daryl are 'together', huh?"

Tara had laughed, "Oh God **_no_** that's never going to happen. He's not my type at all; my type is my girlfriend Denise."

Beth couldn't help laughing at her own faux pas, "I'm so, so sorry I should never have asked that, it's not any of my business. I promise I'm not usually so nosey." Then she got an idea, "Why don't you come over when you close up here, you can see my place and we'll drink some wine."

"I'd love that. I can be over about six thirty I just have some bookwork to catch up on."

Although he couldn't quite her the conversation, he'd heard her out there in his shop. She did have a really nice voice, but damn everything about that woman was nice. That was the problem. When he heard the little bell chime as she left, he walked out to the storefront and tried to look disinterested as he asked, "Was someone here?"

Tara gave him that knowing look, "Don't try that crap with me Daryl Dixon you know exactly who was here, and I've got news for you buster, you and I are paying a visit over there at 6:30. Go get one of those pricey bottles of wine you have stashed upstairs and we'll take it over to her."

"Nah I ain't goin' she don't want me there n I don't wanna go."

"Oh stop you do too, don't try your 'I'm a reclusive and temperamental artist' crap on me. We're going."

He opened his mouth to protest but he didn't know what the hell to say, and the truth was he did want to see her place. And again he was honest with himself, he wanted to see her.

He did what Tara told him and went up to his place, he got in the wine cellar and chose a nice bottle of Cabernet, and then he grabbed a second bottle. One bottle for all of them to share, and one for her as a "welcome to the building" gift.

Back when he'd first been breaking into the "art scene" his friend Rick had convinced him he needed to learn about wine, because that's what art snobs drank. Rick would know that because over the years he'd become kind of an art snob, in fact he was responsible for Daryl's initial success. He'd been influential in getting some of his carvings shown to the "right" people. Before he knew what hit him Daryl Dixon had become kind of a big deal.

He was truly grateful for his success, grateful he didn't have to worry about money and that he could mostly focus on the things he liked doing.

But he hated all the trappings of his success, well except the wine. He did like the wine.

And he was hoping Beth Greene liked the wine.

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 **A/N Thanks for taking the time this new story. I'd appreciate hearing your thoughts so please review / comment. Thanks again, x gneebee**

 **To see a photo of the Wood Sculptor and the Painter please visit my tumblr bethylmethbrick. This story will post weekly on Thursdays. Please follow to be sure you get updates on this and all my stories. As always, I love ya large! xo gneebee**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Thank you all so much for the follows, favorites and reviews, you know I appreciate you all so much. Shall we see how The Wood Sculptor and the Painter are doing?**

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Oh no this was the worst. If she'd have just known he was going to come with Tara she'd have tried to do something with her goofy hair, and she'd have put on a little fresh make-up, and a nice blouse. She was sure she looked like a total slob. And that was definitely not the way she wanted him to see her looking.

Then she scolded herself for even worrying about that kind of thing, for caring what he thought. It was pretty obvious he wasn't the least bit interested in her anyway. And being real, with his looks, talent and success he probably had an entire harem of secret girlfriends somewhere, he just liked keeping them out of the public eye.

He appreciated her casual style and that she didn't wear all of that over the top make-up, and man that hair, that was gorgeous, it was messy in a very sexy way. And then he reprimanded himself, reminding himself he wasn't going to get involved with a woman, not any woman, not now and not ever. It didn't matter how pretty or nice or sexy she was. He just couldn't risk himself that way.

He hadn't even had romantic feelings for Paula and yet when things went down the way they did, it had thrown him into a complete downward spiral. He'd felt all those terrible feelings anyone who's been used feels. It's like a hard blow right to the gut, and for a while he'd had trouble trusting even the people that had earned his trust and deserved it the most.

But the hardest part had been that he no longer trusted himself. He was consumed with self-anger for not having seen what was going on. Up until then he'd always thought he was a pretty good judge of people's character, now he was certain he knew nothing about people at all. Even when his own brother and his best friends had tried so hard to warn him what was happening, like an idiot he'd defended a fake.

Before the thing with Paula happened he'd been a guy who always tried to give people the benefit of the doubt, take them at face value and believe they were what they said they were. Now he'd done a complete 180 and didn't feel like anyone could be trusted.

So he'd built his walls and he'd wrapped his heart in razor wire and he vowed no one would ever get close to him again.

Besides Beth already had a boyfriend and she wasn't interested in him, he knew that. She was just being friendly. She seemed like that type of person. Shit she probably hadn't even really wanted him at her place at all, it was no doubt Tara she wanted to hang out with. She was just being polite by including him in, he got it and he was starting to question why he'd even bothered to come.

Yet he found he had a hard time keeping his eyes off of her, and he was a little amazed how interested he was in her work. He'd been especially surprised to discover just how talented she was. When she'd said she did watercolors he'd discounted her art, to himself anyway. It was a medium he'd never had much interest in, a little too bright and colorful for him. Yep he recognized he'd become that guy, the asshole art snob and he was so wrong because she was so good at what she did. And yeah, her work matched her sunny personality and that was just fine, her paintings were beautiful.

So he stepped up and for once he stepped outside of himself and he actually paid her a compliment, "Damn girl ya got some real nice work. The shop looks great an the studio looks like ya laid it out just right."

"Thanks Daryl that's so good to hear from someone who knows the business. I did have a question for you, something I wanted to talk to you about. I love to paint outside and I wondered if you'd mind if I paint in the courtyard?" He could see how nervous she was to ask.

"Nah, that don't bother me at all you're welcome to." Shit had he acted that mean? So mean she actually thought he'd get pissed if she wanted to setup her easel and do some painting in the courtyard? Now he felt like the world's biggest asshole because he was pretty sure that was exactly what he was. But he didn't really like the idea of Beth Greene thinking he was.

And then there was that other thought, the one there in the back of his mind. The one he'd never admit to her or even to himself, he was pretty damn sure he'd enjoy watching her paint from his studio window.

"Oh that's great thank you! I'm really going to enjoy working in that gorgeous setting. Now please both of you come into the living area, let's sit and enjoy some of this beautiful wine. And thank you for bringing it Daryl that was very thoughtful. Honestly? I was going to serve you the moderately priced grocery store variety." She'd laughed a sweet and sort of nervous sounding laugh and to him it seemed as sunny as her smile. Yeah he wondered if could she even be for real. Something must be up with her.

And he was really wishing she wouldn't smile that smile, it was getting to him.

"Since you brought the wine Daryl would you do the honors and open it?" And she did it again, that damn smile.

"Yeah, sure." He pulled the cork as though he'd done it a million times. Well truth was he'd done it plenty of times.

He poured the wine and she set out a tray of very nice cheeses and some savory and crusty bread, and as much as he hated to admit it to himself the visit was all good, even kind of enjoyable. In fact when Denise showed up it practically turned into a little party, and he'd been happy to open that second bottle of wine when Beth smiled that damn smile and asked him to. "This one was s'posed ta be your housewarmin' gift, I'll make sure an get ya another."

"There's no need Daryl it was very generous of you to bring two bottles. I enjoy good wine and I enjoy it even more when I'm drinking it with friends." There it was and he guessed he should feel relieved that she saw him as just a friend. After all hadn't he been telling himself he didn't want to be involved, not with anyone including her?

And anyway, as much as he was enjoying himself he hadn't forgotten something else and he couldn't help but wonder, where was that boyfriend and how would he feel about all of this?

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He'd been in his studio working on a piece for one of his regulars when he took a break to stretch and get another cup of coffee. He glanced out the window and there she was with her easel setup near the fountain. The scene itself was like a painting. Her hair was in a ponytail and with the sunlight behind her it gave the appearance it was softly glowing. She had a small smile on her face and she was wearing a pretty floral apron, it was all so idyllic looking. It appeared by her look that the fountain was the subject of her painting; that actually brought a smile to his face. The knowing that she liked it enough to want to paint it, because the truth was he'd designed that fountain himself and he was proud of his creation. He couldn't deny to himself that the idea of her liking his creations pleased him.

He didn't even realize he'd been staring at her until she suddenly glanced up, saw him, smiled and waved. Shit that was embarrassing. He tried being cool and just giving her a slight nod of the head and the world's smallest smile. Yeah he was real cool alright.

Screw it, he was going down to see just how that painting looked. Not to see her or anything, just to see that painting and to stretch his legs. He needed a little break and some fresh air.

She watched him walking toward her and that walk of his was quite the pleasant sight to behold, it almost made her wish he was further away so she could enjoy a little more of it. "Hey can I see what ya got goin' there?" He asked before even getting close to the work. He was a temperamental artist who didn't like anyone seeing his work before it was completed, so he was trying to respect the fact she might be the same way about her work. He should have known better.

He saw her cheeks turn a pretty pink color and he knew he'd embarrassed her, and he kind of thought he should feel bad but she just looked too damn good for him to feel bad. He was fighting an urge to run his thumb softly across one of those freshly pinked up cheeks.

When she felt that color come to her face she wanted to crawl under a rock. He was so manly and so ruggedly handsome and she probably looked like an overgrown kid. But she did her best to try and maintain her composure, she smiled and said, "Sure, you're welcome to have a look, in fact I'd love to hear your opinion." But inside she was all tied up in knots and worried about just what his opinion might be.

He stood back and studied the partially completed painting with furrowed brow and those penetrating eyes. By the serious look on his face and the squint she was certain he was going to tell her it was the worst thing he'd ever seen. She couldn't have been more surprised than she was when he nodded and remarked, "Ya really caught it Beth, the feelin' of it, the calm an relaxin' quality. Shit I like it so much I might have ta buy it from ya."

Now she was really pink and he guessed by her look that she was wondering if he meant what he'd said so again he stepped up, "I mean it Beth, I don't bullshit around about art an this is really good. Ya got a lotta talent."

"Thank you so much Daryl that's wonderful to hear and it means a lot to me that you would say that."

"Yeah well." And he'd shrugged his shoulders and then quickly headed back toward the private entrance to his place.

That's what he did. He'd be very nice to her and complimentary and then he'd hurry away. Just like when he'd been at her place with Tara and Denise, everyone was having a great time when suddenly he'd stood quickly and said, "Hey thanks, I gotta go." And just that fast he was gone. She hadn't missed the look Tara and Denise had shared, she just didn't know what exactly their look meant.

And there was the day she'd hung out her shop sign and he'd come by and said, "It looks real good, that oughta bring folks in ta your place." And she'd smiled and said, "Well thank you Daryl, that's definitely what I'm hoping for." He'd shrugged, "Yeah me too." And he was gone again.

She didn't get it at all. On one hand she thought just maybe he might be a little interested in her, but on the other it seemed like he barely tolerated her and was just offering his renter a little encouragement. She wished he'd give her some kind of sign. Mostly she hoped it was a positive sign.

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She'd been in her place for just over three weeks and business was going so much better than she'd ever expected, or even dared to hope it would, especially in the beginning. She'd had one woman come in and buy four of her paintings for a house she was remodeling, and she'd had several sales of individual pieces as well. Maybe what shocked her the most was no one had even tried to talk her down in price, she'd been warned since school that was very common among those purchasing art.

Tara had told her Daryl Dixon had a firm "no haggle" policy. "Daryl is one of those people Beth, he's plain spoken and his attitude is if you like it then pay me what its' worth, otherwise go buy something a machine made." They'd smiled over that and agreed he was right, his time and his talent were worth the price. She wondered if since she was in the same building as him buyer's just assumed her pricing policy was the same.

* * *

She'd just turned her "open" sign to "closed" and headed in her home when there was a knock on the shop door. She hurried back to it and Tara was there. "Hi Beth, a few of us are going to get together in the courtyard for drinks and tidbits, why don't you join us?"

"Are you sure? I mean I know Daryl is really picky about different things and well I don't want to upset the landlord."

"Oh picky my arse. He's going to be there having a glass of wine right along with the rest of us. And you live here Beth, that makes you part of us and he'll be happy you came. Come on, it'll be fun and I think you'll enjoy meeting the group." The truth was Daryl was Tara's dearest friend, she would never expose him by confiding in Beth how sure she was that he was interested in the pretty painter. But friendship didn't stop her from trying to bring about a little togetherness between the two.

The reality was Beth was dying to meet his group of friends, the designated few he agreed to spend his time with. She was wondering if he'd have a woman with him. Well if he did she'd make an excuse to leave right after her first drink. She didn't see any reason to torture herself watching him enjoying some other woman's company.

She kept it casual, trying hard to look as though she'd put no time or thought into her "look" at all. But she wore those tight capris Maggie said made her butt look great, and that little blousey tank top Tara had complimented her on, and a new pair of strappy sandals to show off that pedicure she'd gotten earlier. She kept her makeup light and her hair in a ponytail, trying to maintain that laidback look. The "I didn't do a thing to get ready" look.

They were all assembled there around the fountain laughing softly and it seemed as if everything got quiet when she appeared, it also looked to her like Daryl was a little surprised to see her. Thank goodness for Tara who jumped right up and introduced her to everyone.

They all seemed so nice and everyone was quite friendly and open. At first she was a little caught off guard by Daryl's brother. It was just that he seemed like such a different kind of guy than Daryl. He was older by at least 10 years and although Daryl looked tough and manly, Merle had a much rougher quality about him, like he'd seen some tougher times. Yet he didn't seem nearly as wary as his younger brother. He was also louder, more outgoing, quick to laugh and very friendly.

"Are you an artist as well Merle?" She asked oh so innocently.

"Well yeah I am I guess, lotsa folks see it that way I s'pose. Ya know, when ya get someone's plumbin' workin' right they're all manner of appreciative a your artistic methods. I'm your friendly neighborhood plumber." And he laughed a booming laugh that drew everyone in.

Even Daryl snickered a little, "Merle's got his artistic talents for sure, he designed an built that vanity in your bathroom." He was obviously proud of his brother.

Rick's son Carl was getting pointers from Daryl about wood carving. He had a piece he was working on and Daryl was patiently explaining to him how he might go about achieving the end result he was after.

The other thing Carl had was a little turtle. He had him in a shoebox with moist leaves and grasses and some lettuce and carrot snacks. Beth was as fascinated by that turtle as he was. "Can I touch him Carl?"

"Sure you can even hold him if you want to."

"Oh I do want to, thanks so much." She was kneeling on the ground next to where the boy was sitting. He had the dolphin he was carving in his hand, and the shoebox with the turtle next to him.

"I just love him Carl, where did you find him?"

"He was in a little gully not far from our house, he didn't seem to have any friends or anything around and he didn't fight me about picking him up and bringing him home."

"That is so cool. I love how he looks right at us, it's like he knows just what we're saying."

Daryl was watching the two of them and paying close attention to her total and sincere involvement in her conversation with Carl. It sure seemed to him there wasn't anything phony or put-on about the way she talked to the boy. And he didn't miss for a minute her genuine curiosity about and interest in that little turtle.

Damn if that Beth Greene wasn't chipping away at his walls.

* * *

It had been a week. Everything had gone so terrific out in the courtyard that night, and it seemed everyone had so much fun, even Daryl. There was no woman with him, there was nothing wrong, it was good, they were good. She'd been hopeful maybe he'd come around, maybe he'd invite her to coffee or lunch, anything. But no, everything seemed to be right back to where they started.

Then Thursday evening rolled around, she'd just flipped her open sign to closed when there was a knock on her door. Assuming it was Tara she'd dashed right over with a big smile on her face as she opened the door. And there stood the Wood Sculptor.

He'd almost talked himself out of it ten times. He reminded himself she had a boyfriend, he reminded himself he didn't want anything to do with women. And he thought the little gift was too much of him, or not enough of him, or just all wrong. But once he'd knocked on that door there was no turning back.

Damn if her smile didn't make him smile, "Hey Beth uh, I'm finally bringin' ya that bottle a housewarmin' wine I promised. Yeah an here, here's a little sumthin' else I thought ya might like." It was just a small paper bag not even the size of a lunch sack, and he seemed so tentative when he handed it to her.

"Thank you very much Daryl, you know you didn't have to. Would you like to come in for a drink?"

"Uh, no I better not, but um, tomorrow everyone's gonna have some wine in the courtyard, ya know, if ya wanna an stuff, come around."

"Oh. Okay well thank you." Not exactly the invitation she'd hoped for but definitely better than nothing.

He hurried away like he always did and she walked into her kitchen area a little disheartened. She set the wine down and opened the little bag. She couldn't believe it and her eyes instantly filled with tears, it was a small intricately carved turtle, there was a plain white card that read, "This is the best turtle I could find you for now."

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 **A/N The turtle :) I think we all know that turtle's name. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I thank you for reading along. I'd appreciate it very much if you'd leave your thoughts / comments / reviews x gneebee**

 **To see the chapter photo please visit my tumblr bethylmethbrick. I hope to see you all back here next Thursday for more of The Wood Sculptor when we discover how Daryl became The Sculptor. I also have a new Bethyl story that begins posting this Saturday and I'm pretty excited about that one. I'd appreciate you giving it a read. To be sure you get story alerts, please consider following me here. As always, I love ya large! xo gneebee**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N First things first,** **Sunday's S7 premier was a rough one and I think we all need a nice warm hug (((())))**

 **As for today, indeed it was Anthony! The world's most special turtle :) Thank you all so much for the follows, the faves and taking the time to comment / review. You make me smile. In this chapter we're going to learn how Daryl became a sculptor and how he gained such renown. We've got plenty of other things going on too, so let's get to it.  
**

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It was the very next morning; that was the first time she saw it. Oh sure she'd heard it a couple of times but she just hadn't quite put two and two together, she hadn't realized it was him.

She'd awoken that morning feeling pretty darn upbeat and even a little excited about the possibilities of things to come. Now that she'd had time to think about it she decided it was that he was a shy person just hadn't known quite how to approach her. That was no doubt why he hadn't ever made any efforts to even chat with her, to be friendly.

She smiled to herself, yes, that had to be it, it was obvious to her now. After all he'd made her a beautiful gift hadn't he? And he'd brought her wine and he asked her to come tonight for a get together in the courtyard. All positive steps toward just maybe a little something more, so yes she had it all figured out it was just that he was shy. She could accept that and be patient, or at least try very hard to be.

She set about taking her drop cloth, her easel and her paints and other art supplies to the courtyard. That was when she heard the noise even more loudly, that engine was really revving and the sound was coming from behind the big arched gate. Her curiosity got the best of her and she walked through the gate to see him there. He was bent down beside a motorcycle and it looked as if he was checking something. Her presence caused him to glance up and he nodded, "Hey."

The first time she'd met him she'd thought he was the sexiest man she'd ever seen, but just wow, it didn't seem possible but he looked even better with that bike. And he was quite dressed up, not the casual jeans and denim shirts he often wore. He looked almost like a high priced fashion model.

But looks weren't the only thing that attracted her to Daryl, they weren't the only thing about him that got to her. She just sensed it, sensed there was so much more to the man. She had a strong feeling that behind those thick concrete walls he'd built for himself lived a good, honest and sensitive man.

She could see the evidence of it in his art. You couldn't create those beautiful delicate pieces, or lovingly restore things the way he did, and not be a sensitive being. And she knew he was close, warm and loyal with those few people he surrounded himself with. And she'd seen how kind and patient he was with Carl. She was sure the Sculptor had a good heart, he just seemed to be working very hard at keeping it buried deep.

She tried to sound cheerful and friendly as she said with a smile, "Hey yourself, I didn't know you had a motorcycle Daryl."

Damn that smile of hers, "Yeah well it's been bein' a real pisser this mornin', if it was possible ta kick it's ass I would, it's gonna make me late for an appointment. Well anyway I think I got it runnin' back up ta snuff, everythin' seems a little smoother."

Desperate to keep a conversation going, she tried, "Are you going riding today?"

"Nah not really, that's what I wish I was doin'. I gotta meet with someone today but first I gotta do some runnin' around, errands an whatnot. I hate that shit."

"Well before you go I want to thank you for the beautiful carving Daryl, I love my turtle so much. It's a special gift and I know I'll always treasure it."

That was all it took and that shyness instantly seemed to overcome him, and she could also sense he was embarrassed. He went to chewing on the side of his thumb and nodded his head, "You're welcome. I better get ta gettin' now, see ya later."

"See you tonight." She realized she had a very hopeful tone in her voice, sheesh desperate much? But she got over that at least temporarily as she watched him get on the Bike and ride off. There was just no getting around the fact that he was one fine looking specimen of a very shy and private man. She sure wished she was on that Bike with him unlocking a few of those secrets of his.

She tried to get busy with her painting but her mind and her heart just weren't in it, she felt so distracted. She scolded herself for spending her creative time thinking about this man. Why was she letting thoughts of him distract her so? She'd like to blame him for causing this break in her concentration but she couldn't even do that. All he was guilty of was just being him, he couldn't help it if he was the sexiest man on earth. How she dealt with that little reality was her problem, her obsession, not his.

* * *

He couldn't believe he'd finally gotten it together enough to just take a chance. But he had and he'd admitted to himself that he had feelings for her, and he took her the little turtle. She said she liked it and he sure hoped she meant that. Her liking his creations was more important to him than he'd care to acknowledge.

* * *

After a couple of hours of starts and stops and berating herself for being such a fool, she finally decided maybe a walk to clear her mind was the answer. She went in his shop first, "Hi Tara, I just want to let you know I'm leaving for a little while. I'm having a lot of trouble getting those creative juices flowing this morning. I just can't seem to keep my mind on my art. I'm flipping my sign to closed and going for a little walk around town. Maybe that will help to clear my scattered brain."

"Alright, if anyone comes by I'll let them know you'll be back later."

"Thanks, and I've got one of those 'I'll be back' clock things too, I'll set it for 3:00 I think. See you in the courtyard tonight if not before."

Tara smiled to herself, had Daryl finally made a move and invited Beth? She hoped so because it was so obvious to the rest of the world, those two had a strong attraction and a heavy dose of chemistry.

Beth had been walking around town awhile feeling more than a little bit distracted when she happened by a small French bistro. She thought that sounded like fun and an excellent diversion, a croissant and cup of coffee. The minute she walked in she saw him. He was seated in a cozy booth chatting with a very attractive blond woman. The two were engrossed in some serious-looking conversation and they were probably engrossed in each other, after all they made a pretty spectacular looking couple.

Her heart really did feel like it broke but what could she do? There it was, no wonder he hadn't made any efforts with her. Although that led her to wonder, just what was with the turtle and asking her to join everyone tonight? Was he some kind of big player? She hadn't thought so, but maybe more of her worst fears were being realized. Maybe she'd misjudged his character completely and he was a man who liked having several women on the line.

She hadn't really thought he was that way but then she'd always been overly trusting, too quick to just assume everyone was a good person. The waitress handed him back a credit card and he and the women stood. She really was gorgeous in a tight fitting knit dress, four inch heels, a great body and beautiful hair. And Beth was just sure there was something between them. This woman must be busy tonight, did that make Beth his second choice for the evening? The consolation prize?

She turned quickly to leave, hoping he hadn't seen her as she rushed back toward her place. She was so angry with herself for crying as she hurried along. Was she an idiot? Probably. It wasn't like they were in a relationship or anything. He was free to be with whomever he wanted to be with, it was just that she was so hurt and disappointed in him and in herself, and because she'd been so wishing it was her he was interested in, and only her.

He thought he saw her rush out of the Bistro, but what would Beth be doing there? He must be mistaken.

The minute she got home she lay down on her bed and just collapsed for a few minutes. Worn out from her own goofy emotions. Then she had an idea, she wasn't going to torture herself by going to the courtyard this evening, why put herself through that? Instead she decided to call Aaron. Eric was often working various catering jobs on weekend evenings, maybe Aaron would be in the mood to come over and have some wine with her. She needed a shoulder to cry on, a kind, caring and non-judgmental shoulder.

She was thrilled when he said, "Sure I'll be by as soon as I close up the shop."

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He'd never decided on a career as a sculptor, it was a career that came to him. It started when he was just a little guy. Merle had given him a small knife and taught him to whittle. Soon his carvings became more and more detailed, more and more intricate. Merle had even begun to encourage him, "Ya gotta lotta talent kid. I don't know what ya can use it for, all I know is ya ain't just some back porch whittler little brother, you're damn good."

Later when he was in middle school Merle presented him with a rather large assortment of professional Swiss made carving tools, including chisels, gouges, knives, veineers and v-tools. He didn't know where Merle came by them, he'd just told Daryl plumbing paid real well.

Daryl found he couldn't get enough of this type of creating. He got books from the library and when he could he watched T.V. shows like The Woodwright's Shop, watching how other guys did what they did. And he made a point of learning about different types of woods, hardwoods, softwoods, tropical softwoods. He even studied the Janka rating system to measure the relative hardness of woods. And he paid close attention to something he felt particularly serious about, how to properly treat and care for the woods.

He studied everything he could get his hands on. He'd also learned many other lessons along the way and he set a very basic rule for himself. For creations he did on his own he stuck with carving the things that held meaning for him. The things that made him think and feel. For commissioned pieces he had to do what the client wanted. That was okay but it was harder to get the passion and direction for those pieces.

He'd known Rick since elementary school and they'd always been kind of close. Rick had married a sometime artist named Lori right out of high school. She'd admired Daryl's work and told him he had "possibilities," whatever that meant. He didn't take it seriously and instead he'd gone to work for his brother in the plumbing business. He didn't mind plumbing at all, it was good work and he still had his evenings and weekends free to do what he really loved doing, working with wood.

He'd even refinished all the kitchen and bathroom cabinets in a small house he was renting, just to have the experience. He found he took both pleasure and pride in restoring wood to its original beauty.

A year or so after Rick's marriage to Lori blew up his friend had started seeing Michonne. She was a big player in the art world, a buyer for all sorts of renowned galleries and museums. She'd taught Rick about art, and what had changed Daryl's life forever was Rick had shown Michonne some of his pieces. She'd gotten Daryl a commission to do a sculpture that would sit in the lobby of the State Building. He'd received high acclaim and wide recognition for the work, and just like that, after 21 years of honing a craft and at 28 years old, he'd become an overnight success.

Now in his mid-thirties he really realized how lucky he'd gotten. There was so much talent out there and very few artists who could actually make a living doing what they loved doing.

As popular as his pieces were in the states, they were even more sought after in Western Europe and Japan. With the help of Michonne and her connections he'd gained success and notoriety quickly. That success, and the money that came with it enabled him to buy the building that would become his home and studio, that he'd so lovingly restored to its' past glory. He'd also bought a small one room cabin in the woods, a place he could go to truly be alone.

He'd insisted on buying the small building where Merle had his shop, and on buying Merle a brand new plumbing truck, telling his brother, "Ya were the first one ta ever encourage me brother. I don't know how, and I don't wanna know how, but ya got me that first set a tools an that really set me on my way. Now look at what all I've got. I could never really repay ya."

Other than those things and the fine wine he'd learned to enjoy drinking, and his top of the line Triumph Bike, his tastes remained quite simple. At the heart of him he knew he would always be a simple man. He loved his brother and his few close friends, his craft, hunting, fishing and riding his motorcycle. That was it.

He'd convinced himself he was happy and satisfied just being himself, having those things in his life, and that he sure as hell didn't need a relationship with a woman complicating this life he'd made.

But now the painter had come walking into that safe little world of his and no matter how hard he tried his attraction to her could not be denied. If there was any doubt of the seriousness of that attraction, it was settled when he'd completely stepped away from a piece he should be working on, a piece commissioned by one of his best clients, so he could carve that turtle for her. And if he had it to do again? Yeah, he'd do it again.

So he admitted the truth to himself, he was infatuated. He wanted to spend time with her and get to know her better. As disinterested as he'd been in having physical contact with Paula, he couldn't stop thinking about taking Beth in his arms, holding her close and kissing those pretty lips. He just didn't know quite what to do to get there.

There was the boyfriend to consider, but what kind of boyfriend turns up to see his woman so infrequently? The guy hadn't been around in what seemed like weeks. Maybe he was out of town for something, maybe they'd broken up. He hoped that was the case. And if it was, she hadn't seemed to be especially heartbroken over it.

The turtle and the wine seemed like a good place to start, but getting up the courage to take them to her, and then to ask her to meet in the courtyard, that had been a tough one. Shit, you'd think guys didn't do that stuff every day. Of course they did, but the thing was he never did that stuff, not ever. She didn't know it and probably never would but it had taken every bit of courage he could muster to knock on her door.

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The small group had gathered in the courtyard and the wine had been poured, but someone was missing and Tara put him on the spot. "Gosh Beth said she'd be joining us tonight, I hope she's okay. Maybe you should go check on her Daryl, you know just to make sure everything's all right."

He squinted those eyes at Tara but reality was he was happy to have the excuse to check on Beth. He'd been looking forward to seeing her, he was anxious to spend a little time with her in the safety of their group. And he was hoping he'd muster up the courage to walk her back to her place and finally just ask her what was up with the boyfriend. If that guy was out of the picture maybe he'd even get up the guts to ask her to lunch or dinner.

He was just about to knock on the door when he saw them, he couldn't miss them. They weren't 10 feet from her shop door, and he could plainly see them through the door's small window. It was Beth and her long tall drink of water and they were hugging. It almost seemed like she was crying. They pulled apart a little, looking at each other while the boyfriend said something to her, and lightly touched her hair. She nodded and the guy smiled. Then he hugged her again. That's when Daryl hustled back to the group.

When Tara inquired he simply said, "Yeah, um I went to the door but no one answered." Okay, so it was kind of a lie but it wasn't a total lie.

* * *

Aaron had listened to her whole story. He was an excellent sounding board and he'd told her, "How do you know she was a girlfriend? She could have been anyone Beth, an art buyer, his accountant, his attorney. Think about it, there are a million possibilities. He told you he had an appointment he didn't say he had a date. I've never seen you so squirrely and especially not over a guy. Now promise me you'll go out there and have a drink with everyone. You'll find out what's going on soon enough."

"You're right Aaron I don't get my behavior either and I know I'm being completely irrational. What the heck is the matter with me? I've never been like this about a man. I'm almost embarrassed by how much I care for him, and if we're talking reality I hardly even know him."

"Well don't go the other way and start beating yourself up Beth. It seems to me you've been charmed by this man and there's nothing wrong with that, there's also nothing you can do about it. It's one of those things, you want it and you start to think you just can't live without it. Maybe you should make that more clear to him. Sometimes you have to be willing to take that big chance with people, just like you took this big chance with your career. The worst case scenario is he's going to make it clear to you he isn't interested. If that's the way it is it's going to cut deep and I'm going to be here for you if it does. The other side of that scenario is there's the chance he'll say, 'Thank God I was hoping you felt it for me like I feel it for you.' So the question now is, where's my best friend the Fearless Beth? "

"You're right. Why am I suddenly being such a mouse? Okay, you have been released from duty. You go home to that wonderful man of yours and I'll go have a glass of wine with that man I'm so hoping is wonderful."

"That's my Beth! Good luck Sweetheart, whatever happens you know how I feel, if it's meant to be then it will be. Call me if you need me and I'll be right over here for you, with a bottle of 90 proof and a tub of Blue Bunny ice cream."

* * *

Awkward. That was the only way to describe it. Not with everyone, they were all great and friendly and welcoming. They were truly wonderful. Carl had his turtle again and for some reason she almost got emotional over that. But she played with the little turtle and chatted with Carl, played with Judith and talked to the group about art and about how her business was going. Everyone was so supportive and Michonne even said she knew some topnotch dealers who dealt in watercolors and she'd contact them to talk about Beth's work. It was all just terrific, perfect really, except for him. He acted like she wasn't even there. He didn't speak to her and he didn't make eye contact, heck he didn't even glance in her direction.

She'd had just enough wine to be really pissed off at him, but not enough to ask him what the hell was the matter with him.

Neither Beth nor Daryl noticed that everyone else was giving each other those sideways glances. They all knew there was some heavy chemistry going on between the two artists, so just what the hell was the problem? And what was this cold behavior on Daryl's part all about? Sure the man was shy, and maybe he'd been burned, but why was he acting so indifferent and almost unkind toward the painter?

Merle had half a mind to ask, but just as he started to speak Karen grabbed hold of his forearm and ever so slightly shook her head "no." He was smart enough to have learned her instincts about these things were far better than his, and so kept his mouth shut.

But Tara? Katie bar the door – because Tara was planning to rain down some misery on him and find out exactly what was going on. Why was he being such an ass?

Beth thanked everyone and said her goodbyes feeling no desire to stay and continue torturing herself. If she was going to be miserable she might as well do it in the privacy of her own home. She'd just go take a nice hot bubble bath and wash Daryl Dixon right down the drain. Where he belonged.

But it hurt, it hurt so bad and she was so angry. She was angry with him for being such an ass, angry with herself for being so stupid, and just oh so sad.

He was as pissed as he could ever remember being, but not at her. It wasn't her fault. He'd known since the day she moved in she had a boyfriend, but he'd been dumb enough to hope maybe it was over. Now that he knew it wasn't, fuck it just hurt too much. He knew he'd behaved like an asshole to her, but it was almost like he couldn't stop himself. How could he switch gears now and start thinking of her as just a friend? How could he sit around making idle conversation when he was feeling like he'd lost something he'd just figured out he wanted so much?

He knew better and he'd done it anyway, he'd let his damn guard down. He'd let her sneak into his heart and in his mind. It wasn't her fault, this was on him.

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 **A/N Ack! These two. Next chapter we'll find out who that blond is, and see if someone can do something to get these artists together. Thanks so much for taking the time to read this story and I hope you'll take a moment to review / comment. x gneebee**

 **You can view the chapter photo on my tumblr blog, bethylmethbrick, they're a good looking pair of artists these two :) Also, if you get a chance please check out my newest Bethyl story, _Trouble in Mind_. I hope to see you all back here next Thursday for more of  The Wood Sculptor. As always, I love ya large! xo gneebee**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N Thanks to all of you who read, comment, review, favor and follow. You know I appreciate it and you so much :) Shall we see if our couple is having any luck figuring things out?**

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Talk about being blindsided, he hadn't expected to be verbally assaulted the minute he stepped into his own shop but that was just what happened. Tara had declared World War III on his ass.

"Just what the hell was all that about last night?" Her voice was raised to a whole new level and there was nothing about the tone of it to suggest they'd ever been friends.

Fine, if she was going to spit nails at him he'd shoot some fire right back at her. He knew exactly what she was asking and why she was pissed at him but he was in no mood to answer, he could match her bad attitude with no sweat. He was already feeling like shit so why not get in a fight and blow off some of his own anger? He hadn't slept all night, his heart ached and he was at complete odds with himself about what his next move ought to be, if anything. He sure as hell didn't need anyone reminding him what a dumb ass he was. So he played it ornery with her, "What the hell's up with you Tara? I do sumthin' to ya? Cuz I sure as hell don't recall it if I did." His tone wasn't any nicer than hers.

She wasn't backing down and she'd definitely turned the volume up on him, "Yeah you did as a matter of fact, in your own special Daryl Dixon grumpy-ass way you managed to ruin a perfectly pleasant Friday evening. Why the hell were you such a jerk to Beth last night? Did she do something to you?" She was sounding more and more pissed at him. He might have been real angry with her too, if he didn't feel like he deserved her wrath. But that didn't mean he was backing down at all.

"I didn't do one damn thing ta her an ya know it!" Except ignore her, but that was different right? And anyway he was in no mood to own up to anything just yet. So he was sounding every bit as fired up as Tara.

"You know exactly what you did Mister Temperamental Artist whether you want to admit it or not! You can play all the games you like but you don't fool me Daryl. She's such a nice woman and I'd lay odds she hasn't done one mean thing to you. Even as stupid as you're capable of being you have to have figured out by now she likes you. Everyone else sure as hell has! You should be ashamed of yourself." He could swear she huffed. And shit now she'd shamed him. But the worst part of the whole exchange was she was right. He was an ass, he'd been mean and he should be ashamed of himself. He was ashamed of himself.

Wait a minute though, Beth liked him? Even if he could believe that she might have at one time, like before last night, she sure as hell couldn't possibly like him now. He was a total and complete asshole and he knew it. But he wasn't going to admit anything, not to Tara or anyone else. Hell he didn't even want to admit it to himself, but still he knew he'd done wrong and it was painful.

He was hurting and he was hating himself and he was heartsick as he stormed out of the shop with a, "Fuck it I don't need this shit," and he headed to his studio slamming the door behind him, just for a little added affect.

He could see the handwriting on the wall there was just no way he was getting anything productive done today. He couldn't calm himself down enough mentally to accomplish anything positive. He was having a hard time thinking about anything besides how much he wished last night had never happened.

* * *

Her mind had refused to shut down and she hadn't slept a wink. She just couldn't understand why he'd treat her so badly, what in the world had that been about? And talk about the double whammy, man she'd gotten a taste of that too. First she sees him with that beautiful woman and then, just to turn the knife, he treats her like crap. Like she's not even there, like she's not even worth looking at. What a jerk.

He'd made her so angry and upset that for the first time in her life she'd felt like she wanted to just scream at someone, while shaking them really hard.

Well at least she'd kept her cool she had that much to be grateful for. She'd played it off like nothing weird was going on, like she didn't even notice his cold attitude and she'd gotten out of there with her dignity intact. But her dignity wasn't doing a thing for her screwed up emotions.

She hated being angry with herself when it was so much easier to be angry with him, he made such a nice big handsome target. And besides she was being a complete idiot. She reminded herself for what seemed like the hundredth time, she and Daryl didn't have anything going on. He'd never made one single promise to her about anything. They'd never been out, never so much as touched each other in passing. He was her landlord and that was it. He'd been pleasant, he'd given her a nice gift, and he'd given her wine. That was it, he obviously had no further interest in her and last night, for whatever reason, he'd made her aware of that in no uncertain terms.

She scolded herself to get her sad sack self up out of bed and move on with her life. So she did get up, she forced herself to eat some yogurt and granola, and made herself a cup of tea. She took her bath, got herself dressed and turned the sign on the door to "Open." She didn't feel any better but at least she was going through the motions.

She gathered her supplies and put the note on the shop door letting people know she could be found in the courtyard, and then she set up to paint. She was determined this would not be a day like yesterday, today her head would be in the game. Today he would not be on her mind and she'd get some actual painting done.

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Yesterday at lunch Andrea had presented him with a contract for a privately commissioned job, a job that was really a big deal for him. It would mean a huge leap forward in his career and it was going to pay a significant amount of money.

An esteemed collector had hired Andrea to negotiate with Daryl on his behalf, and bring back the signed contract no matter what. The commission was for several one of a kind works. The collector planned to make the works a focal point in the lobby of each of his small, very exclusive chain of boutique European hotels.

Although it wasn't the type of subject matter he'd ever even considered carving, he didn't want to turn this opportunity away. It was too important career-wise and the money would certainly bring financial security.

Just as he thought would be the case he hadn't gotten a thing done production-wise. Instead here he sat drinking coffee he wished was something a whole lot stronger, and struggling to even sketch out some preliminary plans. All he could think about was what a terrific, special and beautiful woman Beth was, and what a complete dumb ass he was.

He walked to the window, looked out and saw her there in the courtyard looking oh so sweet and oh so pretty. But his artists' trained eye had caught the sadness in her face and he felt the twinge in his heart, worried he was the one responsible for that look. He stepped back, hiding in the shadows just in case she was to glance up. He shook his head in disgust at his own actions, what was he some kind of lurker?

But low thoughts about himself didn't stop him from peering out at her.

Then suddenly the boyfriend showed up with another man. As much as he didn't want to see the two of them together it was like a train wreck, he couldn't seem to turn away. She embraced them both and Daryl felt the sting of jealousy. He noticed she seemed to be trying to smile at the guy, look cheerful, but then she put her head down and shook it side to side. That was when they all three hugged which the Sculptor found a little odd. But what happened next really caught his attention. As the hug ended the smaller man took long tall drink of water's hand, as they continued talking to the painter.

Reality came crashing down on him. The look the two men shared left no doubt, the tall handsome guy was not Beth's boyfriend.

Now the Sculptor knew for sure he was an idiot. Shit why hadn't he even considered the possibility that the man could simply be a friend? After all he had female friends why wouldn't she have male friends? Fuck he had screwed up royally and now he had to figure out how he was going to make this right. He was completely baffled as to how to even begin to make that happen.

He did know of one thing he could do where he might actually accomplish something, he might even do some straight thinking and the fresh air might help stop the pounding in his head. He was going to get his crossbow, get on his bike and head to his place in the woods.

She told Aaron and Eric how the evening had gone and her friends did their best to offer words of comfort and encouragement. "I love you guys so much thank you for coming by to check on me and thanks for being such good friends. Now you go on and enjoy the rest of your weekend. I'm going to pack a bag and go to Glenn and Maggie's for the night. Playing with that little guy of theirs ought to help keep me from thinking about myself." They all embraced again and her friends left with the words, "We're around if you need us." And knowing that they truly meant what they said did bring her some comfort.

She called Maggie and then quickly packed her bag. She turned the little clock sign to Monday at 10am and locked everything up.

* * *

They got to the big arched gate at the same time. She saw he had a small canvas pack strapped across his chest and a crossbow strapped on his back. She wondered what in the world he was going to do with the menacing looking weapon.

He didn't fail to notice she was carrying an overnight bag in her hand as he opened the gate and held it for her. He swallowed hard, "Hey Beth."

She was abrupt, "Daryl." Why that hurt so much he wasn't sure but it damn sure did. What did he expect? He wouldn't have blamed her if she didn't acknowledge him at all. And he wondered where she was going for the night. Had his bad behavior run her off? He wouldn't blame her a bit if she broke her lease and moved out, no one would blame her. But damn he hoped she didn't do that. He hoped she'd hold off, give him a chance to figure out how the hell he was going to fix this. If that could even be done.

She was hurrying to get in her car and just get the heck out of there, and trying hard not to look at him. Because dang he looked hot. But she wasn't going to think about that. She was going to her sister's and play with her nephew instead.

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He pulled up to his cabin and parked the bike, threw his knapsack inside the door and he was gone, walking those woods.

He breathed in deeply hoping the clean air would clear his aching mind. But as soon as he spotted the small tracks he quieted his breathing and began tracking. He didn't even know if he'd bother to aim and shoot, for him the challenge and the enjoyment were mostly in the tracking.

After trailing his prey for a while he managed to sneak up on the rabbit, happily nibbling away at some white clover. As he watched the small creature an idea came to him. He thought hard on it, it could easily go all wrong. But just maybe it would go right. Everything was already so wrong it probably couldn't get any worse.

The rabbit must have caught his scent as suddenly it turned to see him, ears perked and nose twitching rapidly, and then quickly scurried off. He called after it, "If this works out I owe ya one buddy."

He continued wandering through the woods trying to tire himself out and trying hard to not overthink. There were two things that never worked well for him, overthinking and failing to think at all. He knew he was guilty of both and often. He was trying very hard not to do either this time.

He got back to the cabin, took a can of beans from the cabinet and cooked up the squirrels he'd gotten. The food was simple but it satisfied him and he started to feel a little at peace, at least he had a plan.

Between the lack of sleep, the ride out to the cabin and a long walk in the woods, he was finally worn out enough that not long after he climbed in that old feather bed, sleep found him.

He rose very early feeling both rested and ready to give his idea a go. He took one more walk through "his" woods got on that bike and headed back to town. All the way there he hoped that by the time he got home she wouldn't be gone for good.

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As soon as Maggie opened the door the chaos began. It was perfect, it was just what Beth had come for. She was sure if anyone could keep her distracted it would be two year old Joey. He was a bundle of energy all wrapped up in cuteness and giggles.

Joey lived up to her expectations and Maggie was thrilled to have her sister there to keep the little guy occupied, giving her a moment to herself without the constant interruptions of a high energy two year old.

It was after dinner when Joey had been put to bed, and Glenn had gone to his study to work on something. That's when Maggie poured herself and Beth each a glass of wine and asked the big question, "What's going on Bethie? I can always tell when something's wrong and this time you look really down."

Once she began telling the story it all came out in one big rush. Maggie listened intently, occasionally nodding her head in understanding or reaching over to squeeze Beth's hand in comfort, and trying to give her sister encouragement. As soon as the story had been told Maggie looked Beth in the eye, she was pursing her lips and shaking her head side to side as she remarked, "You two sound like a couple of clueless ninth graders to me. My God did it ever occur to either one of you goofballs that maybe you should just try asking a question once in a while? Seriously. And Beth just so we have an understanding, if you get something going with this guy I'm going to expect a huge family discount on some of his sculptures."

Leave it to Maggie to lighten up the mood and at least get a good laugh out of Beth. She knew she could count on her sister to bring her back to reality.

She left the next morning when Joey went down for his early nap and she was looking forward to being home. She had her day planned out and it was going to focus solely on being good to herself. It amounted to a leisurely bubble bath followed by a day of sitting in one of the comfortable little chairs reading. No stress, no drama, no work. Just some much needed "me" time.

As she drove she thought about what Maggie had said and although the tone had been mostly humorous, she knew what her sister said hadn't really been just in fun. She needed to clear the air with Daryl, to come right out and ask him why he'd treated her the way he had. If nothing else could they try to at least be cordial to one another? Until her lease was up anyway.

She lay in the nice warm bubble bath just thinking about the events of the past several days, the things Aaron had said to her, and the way Daryl had behaved in both his attitude and obvious awkwardness. She thought about her own behavior and she thought about the things Maggie said. Suddenly she laughed out loud. Oh my God I've become a drama queen she thought. Maggie is so right, we are acting like a couple of ninth graders.

She finished her bath and dressed in one of her favorite outfits, she wasn't dressing to impress someone else she was doing this for herself. She took her time with her hair and makeup because she'd decided she deserved to do these things just for her. This was her day.

When she was happy with her look she went to her small kitchen and made herself a cup of orange spice tea. She got comfortable in one of those cute little overstuffed chairs and opened the novel she was still only halfway through. She smiled as she began to read, in spite of everything life was still very good.

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He'd stopped on his way home to get the things he needed and damn he hoped he did this right. As soon as he got back to his place he quickly began his preparations. The further along he got the better he started to feel about it all. He'd never hoped so hard that something would turn out, but he'd also started to think that no matter what happened at least he'd know he'd made an effort.

His phone rang and he checked the caller I.D., Michonne. Shit was she going to chew his ass out now? Great. That could be even worse than Tara. His friend did get after him some but it was nothing more than he felt he had coming. He acknowledged he'd been a shithead and he told her he was going to try his best to make it right. Then she got down to business.

She spoke at some length and he replied, "Yeah okay well I'll try but ya know it's likely I could get a real negative response, before I even get a chance ta broach it. I'll give ya a call in the mornin' an let ya know what happens. An just so ya understand Michonne an ya don't kick my ass later, I'm willin' ta do this and I really will try. I appreciate what you're doin'."

* * *

The prep was done and he smiled, he was feeling kind of proud of himself. He showered and actually combed his hair and trimmed his scruff, and he chose something decent to wear. This was probably his one and only shot and he was going all out in hopes she'd give him a chance.

He grabbed the bottle of wine, grabbed the big sack he'd packed up and he was on his way.

She'd dozed off a couple of times, gotten up and freshened up and she was back to her book. But about five thirty her stomach let out a growl that left no doubt, she needed a little dinner. She'd just walked over to the small kitchen area and thinking about simply opening a can of soup, when there was a loud knock on the door.

It startled her enough that she jumped just a little; she wasn't expecting anyone on a Sunday evening. She was shocked when she opened the door and the Sculptor was standing there.

In his mind he'd rehearsed this moment at least a million times, just what he'd say when she opened that door. But the words that came out weren't quite the same as he'd planned, "I'm a dick. I'm sorry. I brought dinner."

There he stood with the large shopping bag in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. He looked nervous, contrite and sexy as hell. Who knows what came over her? Did it really matter? She quickly put her arms around his neck, gave him a fast hard kiss and said, "Good because I'm starving."

He smiled as he set the bag and the wine down right there where he stood, he looked in her eyes and simply said, "I can't handle this no more. I really am sorry, I'm an asshole an I know it. Can we try an start fresh Beth, please?"

"Maybe. First why don't you tell me about the blond."

"The blond?" It took him a minute and then he got it, it _had_ been Beth rushing out of the bistro. "Aw shit girl. She ain't something personal I got goin' she's an art buyer named Andrea Harrison. She has a buncha rich an influential clients she brokers for and she was making a deal with me, a contract. A real wealthy guy ya mighta heard of, Neal Covert, he commissioned some work from me. It's a huge deal for me financially an career-wise ya know, the kinda thing Tara calls prestigious. Anyway I signed on the dotted line and then I bought her lunch, fifty bucks an that was with a big tip. That's the story."

There were those pretty pink cheeks, she was embarrassed and he knew it and even better yet he understood. Shit they'd both been fooled and foolish.

It was only right that he come clean too, so over dinner he told her about seeing her with Aaron that day she moved in, and what he'd seen through the window Friday night. He explained to her how he'd felt and he told her, "I know it ain't an excuse for the way I treated ya, but there it is." Now they were equally embarrassed.

She smiled as she put her hand on his. "Aaron is my best friend, I met him my very first day of college. He owns an art supply shop and gallery now. Eric, his longtime s.o. has a small catering business. They've been together forever." She was as honest as he'd been. She told him about seeing him with the blond on Friday, how it had hurt because she thought he'd shown interest in her, especially after the gift of the beautiful turtle. And then she'd thought he already had this gorgeous girlfriend. She told him she thought he was some kind of player and how much that bothered her. So she'd called her best friend Aaron to come over and console her.

He couldn't help but laugh a little. "I ain't no player an that's a fact. Ta be a player ya gotta have game, I got no game."

She smiled that smile and said, "Oh I don't know about that, a man who brings a woman a hand carved turtle, a very nice bottle of wine and a delicious dinner, well I'd say that man has game."

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 **A/N We're just going to leave it there for now, next Thursday we'll pick up right here and see how things progress. What did Michonne call about? Thanks so much for reading and I hope you'll leave a comment / review, x gneebee**

 **To see the chapter photo please visit my tumblr bethylmethbrick. If you have the inclination I'd appreciate you checking out my other new Bethyl story,** ** _Trouble in Mind_** **. Thanks so much and you know it don't you? That's right, I love ya large, xo gneebee**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N Thank you for the comments, the follows, the favorites and the PM's. And thanks to my "silent" readers. I appreciate you all so much.**

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They were quietly enjoying their meal but his brain was in overdrive. Ever since Michonne had called the conversation had been playing in the back of his mind. He really did want this for Beth and he wanted to be part of it, to help her in any way he could. When Michonne asked him about it he wasn't even sure if Beth would speak to him. But now that things seemed to be going so well he knew he had to bring it up to her, and they needed to discuss it, together.

But it was already stirring up some very unhappy memories and giving him an unhealthy dose of anxiety. It would mean he'd be putting himself out there again. That he could very possibly be setting himself up for the same kind of bullshit he'd been through with Paula.

He had to stop that kind of thinking and remind himself that Beth was a different woman, very different, than Paula. Beth was real, and he was sure she was guileless. The little bit of time he'd spent with her before this evening, and now sitting here with her over dinner and wine, he felt certain he knew and understood exactly the kind of person she was. There wasn't anything deceptive about her and he'd bet money she didn't have a hidden agenda.

Besides, Beth had already proved she could sell her art with or without him, it wasn't like she needed him to succeed. She'd be a success and achieve her status in the art world whether she had his support or not. It was just his own hang-up and he realized that. He knew he had to get passed those old feelings and the doubt that kept creeping in. They had nothing to do with her or the two of them, and what might be starting between them.

The other thing he had to remember was he wasn't the same man he was a couple of years ago. He'd changed a little himself. Maybe not all the changes he needed to make, but he definitely wasn't that same guy he'd been when he found out the truth about Paula. He'd gained back some of his trust in his own feelings and judgments, and he felt comfortable with his feelings about Beth's intent. Perhaps the most important thing he needed to remember was Beth wasn't asking him to do this. Beth hadn't asked him for one damn thing.

He took a deep breath, "Michonne called me today an she wanted me ta talk to ya about sumthin', it's sumthin' that could be a real good deal for ya Beth. It could really get your name and your art out there and help set your career in motion."

She waited for him to continue but when he didn't she asked, "Are you going to tell me Daryl or am I supposed to start guessing?" She asked it teasingly, she could tell his mind had wandered off somewhere.

He looked embarrassed as he smiled back, his brain was going a mile a minute and he'd been overthinking. "Sorry, I's lost in a thought there. Anyway Michonne knows alotta big deal art collectors, ya know that. Even though I's real, real busy bein' a total jerk the other night, I did hear her tell ya she knew some topnotch brokers who deal in watercolors and she'd contact them about your work."

"Well she done ya one even better than that. There's a private party bein' held down in Riviera Beach, Florida in three weeks. The place is full a rich folks who can't wait ta spend their money. Anyway one of 'em, a pretty big deal collector is throwing a party at his home. Very swanky stuff. He's got some well-known artists coming who specialize in all types of art. Right along with that there's gonna be top buyer's coming from all over the country and even some art critics."

"Truth is I's invited a few weeks ago but I respectfully declined, just like I do all this kinda stuff anymore. I don't really care for it. But Michonne said she talked to the guy yesterday and he's agreed to have some of your paintings shown at this party, an he wants ya there meetin' everyone." He laughed nervously, not happily, and the look on his face said he was very uncomfortable, "He's promisin' ta play ya up big as the hottest new thing in the art world. But there's a condition to the invitation, if you're goin' then he wants me there too. Everyone knows I don't go ta this stuff, so I guess ya could say offerin' this ta you is his way a gettin' me there. So um, I'd be the one escortin' ya."

He'd started chewing on his bottom lip and she knew it had been really tough for him to tell her about this "condition" placed on the invitation. She could see he felt guilty and embarrassed even though he'd tried to make it sound like no big deal. "Well in spite of everything, it does sound like a great opportunity. But I don't want you to feel like you have to go just to help me. That wouldn't be fair to you. I know your reputation Daryl, I know you're very low key. Heck I've even heard you don't like people at all. I wouldn't feel right if you felt forced into something because of me."

"Nah ya got me all wrong Beth, I wanna help. I know all about my reputation an it's mostly true, I ain't real social. I prefer ta stay away from the parties an the openin's an the showins. I don't dislike people, there's people I like a lot, hell I love 'em. You've met 'em." His nerves were trying to get the best of him, he could feel his heart rate speed up, and his throat felt as dry as dust. Still he made himself tell her, "But ya got it wrong, ya wouldn't be forcin' me ta do this. The truth is girl, if someone's gonna be takin' ya out ta fancy parties I'd like that someone ta be me."

The realization of what he'd just said caught her by surprise. She hadn't expected anything like this when her day started. It was so sweet and romantic. She'd have liked to respond with something equally flattering that expressed her feelings for him, at least a little. But as they stared at each other across the small table the only word she could speak was, "Oh."

For the next minute or two neither uttered a word. When things started to feel real uncomfortable he began to stand, "Um I guess I oughta do these dishes and then get outta here an quit botherin' ya."

She quickly stood too, no less awkward than him, "Okay well how about we do the dishes together."

There really wasn't much to do, he'd done all the cooking at his house. There were just a couple of plates, some flatware and glasses. He washed up the few dishes while she dried them.

When the work was done he shrugged a shoulder, nodded his head once and said, "I guess I better go on now." He didn't want to leave and she didn't want him to go, but it was like neither one knew what to say or do next. This was all just so new and they'd already had it go so wrong for them. Now it was like they were both afraid of making a wrong move, of saying the wrong thing. The situation between them finally seemed to have righted itself and no one wanted to risk saying or doing the wrong thing. Maybe they both needed to take some time and let this all sink in a little.

She was walking him over to the door when suddenly he stopped and smiled at her, "Ya kissed me when I walked in I think that means I oughta kiss you before I walk out."

She didn't speak she just beamed a smile right back at him.

He took her lightly in his arms and at first he gave her a kind of chaste, tentative kiss. He drew his head back for just a moment while he looked in her eyes, and then he muttered, "Nah that ain't right." And he leaned in and kissed her like he was saying goodnight to someone he didn't want to have to leave.

As much as he didn't want to he made himself stop as he remembered, "Damn girl, I forgot ta get an answer from ya. I gotta let Michonne know in the mornin', are you an me goin' ta the big art party? Please."

He hadn't even needed to add the please but she was glad he did. Not only was she thrilled about the opportunity to show her work to legitimate collectors and critics, she was excited to be doing that with Daryl Dixon by her side. "Yes and thank you Daryl, thank you for doing this for me. I can't wait."

Where the nerve was coming from he wasn't sure and he really didn't care, before walking out the door he asked one more question, "Can I take ya for dinner Tuesday night, a proper date?"

She was relieved to get her words out without sounding like an idiot, "Yes I'd like that very much."

They both smiled then and he leaned in and kissed her cheek, "Thanks Beth, g'night now."

"Thank you Daryl, the dinner and the wine were a wonderful surprise."

* * *

As soon as he'd left her mind started to race. She couldn't believe this huge turn of events. He'd come to her home to apologize and he'd brought such a lovely peace offering, a delicious dinner that he'd taken the time and effort to make for her himself. No bouquet of flowers could ever hope to match the thought and the effort that had gone into that.

And his apology had been so sincere and heartfelt. But the most important thing that had happened was they'd finally discussed the misconceptions they'd each held. She'd immediately felt the terrible tension that had grown between them evaporate with this "clearing of the air.'

And that was only the beginning. He'd made it very clear that he had feelings for her, and that he wanted to be supportive of not just her art, but also of her personally. He was interested in her, in dating her. Just thinking about everything that had been said had her feeling so giddy she couldn't sit still.

And then there was the kiss. She was wishing he'd have stayed around and kissed her more. But she knew this was probably better, taking it slow.

Then anxiety hit. Which of her paintings would she show? How was she supposed to dress for this occasion? And there was another big looming question. He said they'd take his car. That was wonderful he had a large SUV that was plenty big enough for them and the art they'd each take. But Riviera Beach was a nearly seven hour drive from Savannah. Surely he couldn't be planning to just drive there, attend the party and drive right back to Savannah. So what would that mean? Where would they stay? And was he thinking they'd be staying "together"? He hadn't told her these things, how in the world was she going to get the nerve to come out and ask him?

* * *

He smiled on the way back to his place. He was so relieved he'd just done it, gone to her and told her he was sorry. He was grateful she'd been willing to hear him out. And as far as he was concerned that also spoke to the person she was, that she would give him that chance, let him say his piece and not just throw him out the door.

When she'd gotten honest with him about seeing him with Andrea and misinterpreting the situation, he'd understood immediately how that felt. He could see why she'd think it was something it wasn't. Still, to her credit she'd come to the courtyard and tried to be friendly, while he had acted like a complete dick. He had to remind himself they'd discussed all of that and they'd resolved it. She'd been gracious enough to accept his apology and they'd agreed it was now behind them. He was the one who had the problem letting it go, he'd always been the person he had the most trouble forgiving. He was a man who held onto guilt and he knew it. He resolved to just continue reminding himself they were starting fresh and he was the only one playing the blame game.

He hated those damn art snob parties more than he could put into words, and yet he was suddenly very excited to be attending this one. He was enthusiastic about her showing her art and he felt confident her work would be well-received. But more than anything he was proud to be the man who was lucky enough to be standing next to the beautiful painter.

All he had to do now was figure out how to tell her about the invitation the owner had extended. The guy wanted the two of them to stay in his guest house, located there on the property. It did have two bedrooms but still he wouldn't want Beth to think he had some kind of big expectations of how the evening would end up, or that he had ulterior motives when he'd offered to take her to the party. They'd had enough misunderstandings and drama and he wanted so much to see if their relationship could move forward. The last thing he wanted was a setback.

He'd think of something and talk to her about it over dinner Tuesday.

Between his overthinking and the many emotions he'd experienced throughout the day he'd worn himself out. That fact combined with the happiness he felt over them "making-up," helped him rest. His mind was at peace, at least as at peace as his mind was ever capable of being.

He woke feeling refreshed, happy and ready to devote this new day to working on his private commission job.

He had some anxiety about it. He didn't doubt his ability to create the pieces. He was sure he could do the job and meet the consignee's expectations. The problem he was having was the subject of the sculptures; it was just so far removed from the type of work he normally produced. He questioned why the buyer had chosen him for this particular contract, there were other sculptors who almost exclusively dealt in this area.

And it was something he wasn't at all sure he was comfortable with. But he knew that was his problem and he had to distance himself from those feelings. He was hopeful that after he'd completed one of the carvings his attitude toward the subject matter and his comfort level would greatly improve.

He was determined he would be successful with commission. It may not be his comfort zone but he wanted this. He wanted it for all kinds of reasons. He wanted to prove something to himself; that he could reach outside of himself and accomplish something wonderful. He'd carried a doubt deep in his heart and his mind ever since he was a little boy. Growing up he'd heard regularly what a loser he was, that he was worthless. No matter how much success he'd already achieved those words still haunted him. Success with something as foreign to him as this might finally help him overcome his doubts.

He wasn't ignoring the financial payoff either. He made great money it wasn't that. He'd been able to have and do things he'd never even considered would be possible. But this would be a new kind of financial freedom. Best of all the financial freedom would bring him creative freedom, he could experiment more, spread his wings.

As he carefully chose the wood and studied the photos he'd been given a thought came to his mind. He asked himself one more question, "What would Beth think?" With that question he began chewing his lower lip.

* * *

She'd slept so good and she'd woken with renewed purpose. She'd had some off days recently but now she was in the mood to create beautiful art, and she was determined this day would be a wonderful day.

She fixed herself a light breakfast of oatmeal and fruit, and had her cup of tea while watching the morning news. Then she got herself dressed and ready to be productive.

She made the two trips it took to get her painting supplies and canvas to the courtyard, then put her sign on the door advising customers where she could be found.

She couldn't help smiling, she was still working on her painting of the fountain in the courtyard. She loved everything about the fountain. It was so idyllic and so beautiful. There was a sense of peacefulness, a calmness about it. And she smiled to herself because he'd so highly complimented her ability to capture that in her art.

He'd been hunched over sketching for long enough he was feeling it in his shoulders, he needed a break. Maybe some fresh air. He walked to the window, glanced out and saw her there. This time he didn't try to hide himself. Instead he was hopeful she'd look up, and as though she read his mind she did. He nodded toward her with a smile on his face as she waved back at him.

He went to the kitchen and poured them each a cup of coffee and realized he had no idea how she liked hers. He took a chance, she seemed like a cream and sugar person. He stepped out into the courtyard but stopped before he got too close, not wanting to seem like he was "snooping" at her work. "I brought ya coffee?"

She smiled, "Oh how nice." And as she took it, "Thank you so much, and just the way I like it, light and sweet. How are you today Daryl?"

They sat down on the outdoor sofa as they sipped their coffees, "Doin' real good, I'm finally gettin' some work done on my commission job."

"Good for you, I'm finally getting something done myself, it feels nice doesn't it?"

"It does but I think I like what you're doin' more'n I like what I'm doin'. Oh, I's gonna ask if ya got a favorite restaurant for dinner."

She smiled and a soft laugh escaped her, "I have no idea what's good. I've been a college student eating Ramen and the occasional pizza. But I do know one thing I'd like."

He smiled back, "What's that?"

"Can we take the motorcycle?"

Now he was really beaming, "Sure we can, that'd be awesome." He was so stoked she want to take the bike. "Ya like seafood? I went to a real good seafood restaurant with Tara and Denise, it's right on the water n real pretty."

"It sounds wonderful."

"A'ight perfect, if it works for ya we'll leave about six. I best get back at it now an quit keepin' ya from your paintin'."

"Six is great and thanks for the coffee, it was a lovely surprise." And she meant it, it was a thoughtful gesture and she didn't even think he realized that. She was beginning to see doing thoughtful little things was just his nature.

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Beth was excited for several reasons. Of course the main one was to just be spending time with Daryl. She was sure she'd been right about him in the beginning, yes he was handsome and sexy but more important than that, he was a good man. They'd had their stumbles and now she was anxious to be moving forward with him. At least she was hoping that's what this was, a start.

And she was so excited to be riding with him on the motorcycle. That just screamed hot. So she tried to choose her outfit accordingly, pants, boots, a silky top and a black leather jacket she hadn't worn since she was a freshmen in college. She looked at herself in the mirror, smiled and said, "Yep, biker chick." And that made her laugh even harder, she didn't know anything about motorcycles.

The important thing was they'd be getting to know each other and she wanted to know everything about him. Personally, professionally, all of it.

Then she heard the knock on the door she'd been so anxiously awaiting.

He'd been looking forward to this, to taking Beth out and showing her a good time, and hopefully showing her he wasn't a bad guy. Awkward, yes, and sometimes a little too shy, and often he had trouble putting his thoughts and feelings into words. But he was anxious to prove to her, to show her that what happened Friday night wasn't his typical behavior.

Since they were taking the bike he'd opted for jeans, his black boots, a denim shirt and his black leather jacket. And he'd made a quick trip to Sport Cycle that afternoon to pick up a helmet for Beth, he was set.

He was feeling happy and nervous as he approached her place.

When she opened the door he was immediately struck by just how damn good she looked. Those tight pants and that black leather jacket with her beautiful blond hair. There was just nothing about the way she looked that he didn't like. "Hey Beth ya look real nice."

"Hey yourself, and thank you Daryl. I'm so anxious for my first ever motorcycle ride, and I'm happy to be having that ride with you." She wanted to let him know she cared, she was interested.

What she said did wonders for his confidence, "Alright then, let's get to it."

He surprised her when he took her hand as they walked toward the big arched gate. His hand was big, completely encircling hers, it was a little rough but also so pleasantly warm.

They got to the bike and she saw the two helmets sitting on the seat. "Oh I hadn't even thought about that part Daryl."

"Well I guess ya didn't have to, I got ya covered." She could swear she felt a tingling sensation as he put the helmet on her and tightened the chin strap. Something about that gesture was just so sweet and intimate.

"Ya look just right, a natural for the biker life." The way he was eyeing her she knew, whatever it was she looked like in that helmet, he approved.

Beth couldn't think of anything that could even hope to compare to the feeling of sitting behind him on that bike. It was sexy and exhilarating. She'd known he was nicely built, but holding her body so close to his was especially thrilling.

There was something about having her on the bike it made him feel proud, and he was thinking her body fit just right next to his body.

They sat at a small table looking out on the water, it couldn't have been a better atmosphere. The waiter took their drink order, he ordered her a glass of the wine she wanted, and surprised her a little when he ordered himself a beer. "I didn't know you were a beer drinker Daryl."

"Yeah well don't tell Rick he'll get all bent, he's been tryin' so hard ta sophisticate me, but I do like a cold one." He laughed a little, "Besides, I'm ridin' ya on the bike, I'll just be havin' this one."

She was fascinated by this man who possessed so much talent, and yet something definitely told her he came from humble beginnings. Somehow, and she wasn't sure how that was, he'd become a prominent figure in a world where it was hard to get noticed and recognized. They'd already learned they needed to communicate, so she asked him.

He told her his story about the whittling and what it had eventually become, about Rick and Michonne's help. "Without em I'd probably still be plumbin' for Merle and carvin' in my free time."

"Oh I don't think so you're work is so good Daryl something would have happen for you."

That boosted his ego and he was thinking about how well things were going, he decided he had to mention the Florida arrangements to her.

The waiter came, they placed their dinner order and then he told her, "I wanted ta talk ta ya some about Florida."

"Great because I have a couple of questions." She was hoping he'd be the one to bring up the arrangements first.

"Sure ask me, I'll tell ya what I know."

"How am I supposed to dress for this fancy party?"

He shook his head almost apologetically, "Oh yeah well it's black tie."

"Oh wow I have to wear a gown then. Geez and I'll be a mess after wearing it in the car for the long drive there."

"You could just get ready when we get there. Okay so um, this place, I been there once before Beth. It don't even look like a house, it looks like a damn resort. The guy paid twenty-five million dollars for it, no kiddin'. It's right on the water an has too many rooms to count. It's crazy. Anyway, when I said the guy was rich I wasn't kiddin'. What they call old money, family money and plenty of it. Ya mighta heard of him, Ronald St. Amour."

"Anyway, there's a guest house on the property an he wants me an you ta stay there, have brunch with him and his wife Sunday before we leave." She saw him swallow hard and he was chewing the side of his thumb. She was nervous too, what were the sleeping arrangements in this guest house?

"The place has two bedrooms an they each got their own bath, so we'd have privacy n all. Ya okay with this setup? I understand if it makes ya uncomfortable."

"Uh well that seems fine as long as, you know, we each have a room and bathroom it should be fine." She was both relieved and embarrassed, and she could feel the color come to her cheeks. She wanted to change the subject, quickly. "I've never seen a big estate. I'm so excited and really intimidated."

"I know I's that way too an I still am, I ain't comfortable in these situations at all. We'll be fine though Beth we'll be together." Well that had come out.

When he said those words, "we'll be together," for the first time in her life Beth could swear she felt butterflies in her tummy. She reached across the table and laid her hand on his. "Thank you Daryl, thank you for doing this for me and you're right, we'll be together."

He smiled as turned his hand palm up, so he could take her hand in his. He gave it a gentle squeeze as he told her, "I wouldn't be interested in bein' there with anyone but you Beth."

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 **A/N They seem to be making progress, and there's a big party in their future :) Thanks so much for taking the time to read along. Please leave a comment / review. x gneebee**

 **To see the chapter photo of our very hot couple please visit my tumblr bethylmethbrick. If you're inclined, please check out my other ongoing Bethyl fics, _Trouble in Mind_ and _Little Love Stories_. I hope to see you back her next Thursday for more of The Wood Sculptor. Always remember, I love ya large! xo gneebee**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N Thanks so much you make me smile! When we left our couple they were having dinner, holding hands and talking sweet. Let's see if they can keep that up.**

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He walked her to her door and she was expecting he'd kiss her, but she hadn't been expecting a kiss like that. She'd heard people say things like, "It took my breath away," and she'd always just chalked it up as a figure of speech. But then Daryl Dixon had taken her breath away.

But as he slowly took his lips from hers she saw his look change, the "shy him" had come back. Still he managed a sweet smile as he spoke, "Thanks for comin' out with me Beth. I had a really nice time at dinner. I liked takin' with ya, gettin' ta know ya better. I usually ain't one for sittin' around talkin' but I liked it with you." He surprised himself with the words he spoke. This wasn't like him, he wasn't one to put his feelings into words, to speak so openly about how he felt. But he wanted her to know.

"It was wonderful Daryl. Thank you for inviting me and for the awesome bike ride, I loved it."

"I'll take ya out on it again real soon, I mean if ya like." He shrugged a shoulder as he looked down and then looked back onto her eyes.

"Yes I would like, please."

When he looked at her it was more than just her beauty he saw, he felt like he saw the real her, her heart, and it was good and honest. He was trying very hard to believe that this time his instincts were correct. He drew her close to him and his feelings for her were spoken in the kiss he gave her. And again his kiss left her feeling weak and breathless. And wanting more.

* * *

She was too keyed up to sleep. It had been such a great evening, everything about it seemed so perfect. She loved that he'd shared the story of how he got his start sculpting and how his career began. He was so talented and so successful and yet he remained so humble. He didn't boast, instead he expressed gratitude for what he had achieved, and it was as though he was surprised by his success. But in spite of his humility she could tell he did take great pride in the sculptures he created.

And the kissing. It wasn't as though she'd never been kissed, of course she had. But now she'd been ruined because now she knew no one could ever kiss her the way Daryl did.

And the party, although she was aware she was only being used as a means of getting him there, that was okay. No one else would know. She'd still be showing her art to serious buyers and respected critics. It was daunting but it was also an opportunity she would never have even dreamed she'd have.

* * *

She woke early the next morning feeling excited about so many things, especially her budding relationship with Daryl. She was so happy to think she'd be with him at this party. Just as he told they'd be together.

Of course there was also her career, she was going to meet so many influential members of the art community. It had all come about so quickly and it all had the potential to be so wonderful.

She made herself a light breakfast and got on her laptop. He'd said the dress was black tie and that meant elegance. She certainly didn't have any clothes that fit in that category. She decided she'd go online and browse some store sites for gowns, just to get some ideas before she went shopping.

That's when she discovered she couldn't afford a black tie affair. She experienced some serious sticker shock. And even if she paid the hefty price for an elegant dress she'd still need the right shoes, purse and jewelry. And she didn't just need one outfit, she'd need something appropriate for a fancy brunch the next day. She saw no way she was going to be able to make this work.

As happy as she'd been feeling earlier, now she just felt down and kind of overwhelmed. But she made herself do what she needed to do. She got dressed and prepared for a day of painting. She'd just have to explain to him she couldn't possibly go.

She was taking her canvas and easel out to the courtyard when Tara arrived. The women exchanged greetings and then Tara remarked, "I know it's none of my business, but you look a little down and out Beth. Anything I can help you with?"

Beth told her about Daryl inviting her to the big party, how excited she'd been and how discouraged she was now that she'd checked the price of dresses and accessories.

"Daryl invited you? What? And I'm just now hearing about this? Here, let me help you carry your stuff to the courtyard while you tell me everything."

Of course Beth didn't tell her "everything," she just hit a few high points.

"My sister Hayley is seeing this guy that's taken her to a few pretty swanky deals. What she does is rent the clothes and other stuff online. They ship it to you, you wear it and ship it back."

"Are you kidding me Tara? Are the clothes even decent?"

"Better than decent. You can't tell they're not brand new and they're designer clothes. You can rent everything, the dress, the shoes, the purse and the jewelry. Hayley swears by it."

"Okay, before I give up completely I'll check it out. I knew my old prom dress wasn't going to work for this."

Then Tara gave her a sly little grin, "I'm sure Daryl would buy you any dress you wanted, but guys just don't think about those things. He'll barely have to give his clothes a thought. He'll just go rent a nice tux, easy as that. Try the site, you'll find something. I'm off to Daryl's shop."

Oh my the Sculptor in a tux. Why hadn't she thought of that? He'd said it was black tie. Daryl in a tux was a little something she definitely wanted to see.

No sooner did she have that thought than he showed up with coffee. "G'mornin' how goes it today?"

"I think it's going to be a good day today. I'm really feeling this piece and I think I may finish it sometime this afternoon, but I'm not rushing it. How's your day going?"

"Good, I think I finally got my head wrapped around this job I'm doin', why I'm doin' it an how I'm gonna do it. That's the tough part, now I just hafta get it done." He smiled and took a drink from his cup. "I's gonna ask ya sumthin' Beth, well a couple things. But I don't wanna be pushy, crampin' your style or nuthin'."

She let her hand cover his, "What Daryl?"

"Well one thing I been thinkin' about is us goin' on that bike ride. I's thinkin' if ya got no other plan we could go Sunday. Head ta the mountains an I'll show ya my hide-out." He smiled but he also looked a little nervous.

"You have a mountain hide-out? What exactly is that?"

"It's just a one room cabin. It's where I go ta get away, have quiet. Do a little huntin' n fishin' an a lotta just walkin' around."

"That's so cool, of course I want to go. You just tell me what time I need to be ready and what I need to bring." And then it struck her, "That's where you were going with the crossbow!"

"Yep, I was. It was good too, I went up there an did some serious thinkin' an got my head right. So far it's payin' off." He looked at her and grinned a little self-consciously.

Neither one knew what to say next. He quickly rose, "I better get back at it. Have a good day Beth."

"But what was the other thing you wanted to ask Daryl?"

Now he really looked nervous, "Oh shit I almost forgot, can ya come for dinner Saturday night, ya know ta my place?"

Okay hearts skipping a beat was right up there with being breathless, they're just figures of speech, right? But still she'd swear hers just skipped a beat. "Yes I'd love to, thank you for asking me."

"Okay nuthin' fancy I'm a pretty plain cook, I guess ya know that. Thanks, an now I really better go or I ain't gonna get nuthin' done." And she was thrilled when he leaned down and kissed her softly before turning to go.

"Have a wonderful day Daryl." For a man with so much going for him it surprised her just how awkward and shy he could be. She found it endearing.

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Saturday she closed her shop at 3:00. She wasn't supposed to be at his place until six but she didn't want to have to rush. And she was too anxious to think about work anyway. The first thing she needed to do was just calm down so she made herself a cup of herbal tea and got in the tub. She was trying to read her book but her mind wasn't on the book, her mind was on Daryl.

They'd already gotten in a little routine. He'd started bringing her coffee every morning, even on Friday morning when she wasn't in the courtyard. She hadn't been able to get out and paint because the shop had gotten quite busy. Not that she was complaining a bit, but she did miss her coffee time with the Sculptor.

That was her thought as he walked in with the cups in his hands. He nodded toward the customers and set her cup on the counter. He spoke low, keeping it between the two of them, "I see you're a very popular lady. I thought I's gonna hafta get in line just ta say mornin'."

Just as he had, she kept her voice low, "Good morning to you Daryl and thank you for the coffee. I'm excited about this group, I think I may even have a sale."

He hurriedly leaned forward and kissed her cheek, "I'ma let ya sell 'em then. I'll see ya after while."

It had turned out to be a great morning, Daryl, coffee and she sold two of her paintings.

He walked back in her shop about four announcing with a smirk he'd just come to collect his cup, but then he asked, "Will ya come ta the courtyard tonight? I'm pouring some good wine an Karen and Denise are bringin' some snacks. I dunno what but it's always sumthin' good."

"I'd love to and you didn't even need to bribe me with wine and snacks, I would have come just to sit with you Daryl." She amazed herself talking to him that way, but it was true and he seemed like the kind of guy who might need the encouragement of knowing she was interested in his attention.

It had been such a great atmosphere in the courtyard, it was as though last Friday had never happened. She was feeling more and more like a part of the group.

What surprised her was that right in front of everyone he'd taken her hand. It seemed to come so naturally, like that was the way it had always been. And except for when he was playing with Judith or showing Carl something, he'd continued to hold her hand throughout the evening. This time she did notice the way the group exchanged glances. Tara was practically beaming.

When he walked her to her apartment he didn't hold back, he took her in those strong arms of his and his kiss left no doubt he longed for so much more. And he'd left her longing for more.

* * *

For now she had to concentrate on getting herself ready. She finished her bath and generously applied that expensive new lotion she'd bought just for special occasions, she decided this was the most special occasion ever. She hoped the light lilac fragrance appealed to him.

Tonight really did feel special, the idea that he would have her over and prepare a meal for her. And this would be the second meal he'd made for her.

She was working on her crazy curls, trying hard to get them to do things her way. But her mind was on something other than her hair. She was thinking about his place, she'd been curious about it since the day she moved in and she couldn't wait to see it. She knew how meticulous he'd been with the renovation of her shop and living space, a person just had to see it to know that. The same with the courtyard. Never had anything looked so perfect and yet seemed as natural as that courtyard. It was as though it had always been there and always looked just as it did.

And now she'd get to see the place the man himself called home.

She knew he'd be dressed casually, he'd said casual and that was obviously his style, unless it was business. So she kept it informal choosing tight jeans and a simple white short-sleeved top. She completed the look with ankle boots.

Her goal was to be neither early nor late, so she left her apartment at 5:55 exactly and made the short walk to his place. Her knuckles had barely hit the door when he opened it, "Hey Beth, c'mon in." As soon as she was in the door he had his arms around her, "Damn girl ya smell good."

"Thank you, you don't smell so bad yourself," she smiled. It was a light musk scent and it suited him perfectly. "And my gosh whatever you're cooking smells delicious."

"Well c'mon and lemme get ya a glass a wine." She followed him to the kitchen area, and while he opened and poured the wine her eyes scanned the room. It was like art itself and so much different than her place. Whereas hers was all about quaint southern charm and delicate furnishings, his place was big, bold and masculine.

It was one very large space that included the living area, dining and kitchen. They were all open to each other, and like her place mostly differentiated by their function and furnishings. The ceilings were at least 12 feet high with exposed beams and industrial style enameled pendant lights. The walls were a sort of eclectic mix of darker hued reclaimed wood and stacked stone in light, natural tones. And just as she'd suspected they would be, the floors were hardwood.

The kitchen had big, oversized looking stainless steel appliances and she'd never seen anything like the countertops, she had to ask, "These countertops are striking, what are they exactly?" The counter was smooth with a light sheen, thick and solid looking. It appeared to be filled with random sized pieces of beautiful glass all in varying shades of pale grays and greens. It created a beautiful contrast with the dark wood of the cabinetry.

"Do ya like it? It's recycled glass. This counter here is made outta demolition architectural an aquarium glass. I like the idea a reusin' things."

"I love them, and this huge island, where in the world did you find something like this?"

She could tell her interest in his home pleased him as his smile grew, "The butcher block top was used for just that, in a butcher's shop. Merle heard the place was gonna be demoed an he I went over there an I picked it up cheap. I restored the finish on the block, seasoned it an built the base. Like I said, I like the idea a reusin' things, givin' 'em a new life."

That was obvious again in the kitchen cabinets. They looked to be constructed of reclaimed wood with a little darker tone than the walls, as was the dining table. It was oversized, rectangular in shape and around the table were six highback chairs.

The living room was striking even in its simplicity and it seemed to reflect him too. There was a large overstuffed brown leather sofa with two oversized leather chairs at either side, and on the floor a Navajo rug in earth-tones. The sofa and chairs faced a beautiful stone fireplace, the focal point of this space. The big barnwood coffee table was neatly stacked with art books and there was a wood sculpture of a deer she was sure was his work.

The whole look and feel made it clear a man lived there, and yet she found the ambiance very comfortable and appealing.

She could see there were doors leading to other rooms and as much as she wanted to see them she didn't ask. But she did ask, "So your studio, is there any chance you'd show me?"

She saw him immediately tense and she knew she'd put him on the spot. "Uh maybe another time if that's alright. I don't know why Beth, it's just a space I never felt comfortable sharin'. This sounds corny I know, but it may be that there's just too much a me in there."

"It's fine I get it Daryl I was just curious." She smiled as she reached her hand out to lightly touch his arm in reassurance. She really did "get it," most people don't feel comfortable exposing all of who they are. And this thing between them was still new. She just hoped someday soon Daryl would feel comfortable letting her into his world.

"C'mon an sit." He took her hand and lead her to the big sofa.

"Oh my gosh this is wonderful, how in the world do you ever make yourself get up off this sofa?"

"Some days it ain't easy an I gotta admit it, there's been a lotta mornins I've woke up right here."

* * *

When they sat for dinner he began to apologize for the food he'd prepared them, "I'm sorry it ain't sumthin' more special, but like I said I'm a plain cook. I hope ya like it."

He'd made a very simple green salad and set out a plate and large bowl for each of them. He brought a big cast iron pot to the table and ladled the contents into the bowls, "Shit, I shoulda asked if ya eat game meat, its Venison stew, is that alright?" His brow was furrowed and she knew for sure, this man worried too much.

"It's wonderful I haven't had Venison in so long. My Daddy always used to harvest a deer every fall. And Daryl I can't believe you made bread."

"Yeah I can't believe it either. It was Karen taught me how. One night I's over there an she made some an I couldn't stop eatin' it. She teased me an told me I better learn ta make it myself. I didn't think I could but it's real simple, not like regular bread. It's made with beer so ya don't need yeast an all, just follow what the recipe says." He shrugged, humble about everything.

"Well however it's made it's delicious and you can make it for me anytime." She smiled her best smile for this man who she was having more feelings for with each moment that passed.

After dinner they retreated to the sofa and he wasn't shy about getting close to her and lightly draping an arm around her shoulders. They talked about art and he asked her, "What is it that ya got in mind for your career Beth? I mean ya know the long haul. Lotsa fame n notoriety, bigs sales or is it sumthin' different that motivates ya?"

She told him, "The idea of the fame and notoriety is appealing in a lot of ways, but what I really want is to be able to sell enough of my art so I can continue creating new art. I'm hoping I don't end up having to support myself some other way. I guess what it boils down to is I just want the freedom to express myself through my art." His heart felt happy, she wanted the same thing he wanted. The freedom to do what she loved.

Those few words she spoke, and the wonderful evening they'd already been enjoying all came together and he couldn't hold back. He placed an open palm lightly on the side of her face, letting his thumb glide gently over her cheek bone as they looked in each other's eyes. "You're sumthin' Beth, you're so special." And with those words he pressed his lips to hers.

Their kisses were full of passion and desire but they weren't demanding, they were tender and held the promise of things to come.

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He was at her door at eight Sunday morning and they were both all smiles. The evening had been wonderful and they were hoping today would somehow be even better.

"Ya ready ta ride Beth?"

"Yes Daryl I'm so excited about this." He thought to himself it was him that was the excited one, he was so happy she was willing and anxious to try the things that meant so much to him. Like riding the bike, walking quietly through the woods, letting the world around him just be.

He leaned in and kissed her softly, "Well then c'mon girl, let's get after it."

It was a long ride but she loved every minute of it and she could see why he did. It felt like freedom and exhilaration and pure joy.

She spotted the cabin as they approached and she instantly fell in love with it. It was a simple log structure, it was small with a nice little front porch and old fashion four-pane windows in the front. She noticed the stove pipe mid roof, everything about it said they were in the country.

She gingerly got off the bike, her legs felt rubbery and like they were still vibrating from the movement of the machine. He didn't seem to have that problem at all as he quickly dismounted and took her hand. "C'mon I'll show ya the hide-out, your legs okay?"

"Yes just wobbly," She felt clumsy but he'd told her she'd get more used to the bike if she rode with him more, that sounded just fine with her. "Well I love the outside of your hide-out, it's the perfect little cabin in the woods."

This woman made him feel so good about so many things. He couldn't imagine anyone besides him thinking this modest cabin was any kind of perfection.

They walked in the door and it was everything she'd imagined such a place could possibly be. There was a big old fashion four poster bed that took up a large portion of the room, a couple of mismatched easy chairs and a very small wooden table with two chairs. The tiniest of kitchens was in the far corner. It was simply two upper cabinets and one lower, a sink and the smallest oven and refrigerator she'd ever seen. He had kitchen implements in a crock on the stove, and pots and pans neatly hanging on the wall. There were two shelves stacked with books hanging on the wall near the easy chairs. Maybe most of all she loved the little potbelly wood stove centered on the wall across from the bed.

"Here it is, 300 square feet of what I call paradise. But then I am a redneck."

"I must be a redneck too because I'd say its definitely paradise, all the comforts of home and none of the fuss." That was all he could take of that. He smooth his fingers through her hair as he gently caressed her head in both hands. He looked in her eyes for a long minute and then leaned in enough to bring his lips to hers.

Before kissing her he asked, "Ya really mean that? Ya feel that way about sumthin' like this place or ya just tryin' ta be nice?"

"I try never to say things I don't mean Daryl. I love it, it seems like the perfect place to get away from everything and just have that quiet time. I know that means so much to you."

He was starting to feel pretty sure it was her that was perfect, and he couldn't keep from kissing her like that was exactly how he felt.

He was reluctant to pull his lips away but he did, slowly. "Before I get too lost in ya Beth, maybe we better head out on our walk. Whaddya think?"

She lightly touched his face and it sent a little shiver through him, it was such a small gesture but it felt intimate, tender. "I know I was very lost in you Daryl. So yes, if I'm going to see anything besides the inside of this cabin I think we'd better go." She leaned up on her toes to softly kiss his lips.

It took everything they had to walk out the door.

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 **A/N Well, I'd say we're moving forward here. Next week we're going to the party so you all need to get online and rent your party clothes! Thank you so much for reading this story. I'd appreciate it if you'd leave a comment or review. x gneebee**

 **The chapter photo is posted on my tumblr page bethylmethbrick. Next Thursday is Thanksgiving and I'm having 28 people for dinner, ages two months to 70 years old. No we don't really have the room, but we'll have the food. Good times! I'll still be posting the next chapter then so I hope to see you. And if the mood strikes you, please consider checking out my other Bethyl stories including my two other current ones _Trouble in Mind_ and _Little Love Stories_. Thank you again and always remember, I love ya large! xo gneebee**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N Happy Thanksgiving! Something I'm grateful for is all of you. I hope you're in your fancy clothes and ready to head to Florida for the big party. Here we go!**

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The past three weeks had flown by and tomorrow they'd be leaving for Riviera Beach and the big party. She couldn't decide if she was more excited or more scared. She figured it was probably an equal amount of each.

The important thing was she'd be with Daryl and lately that was what she liked more than anything, being with Daryl.

They'd been spending a lot of time together, coffee every morning, dinner at her place, dinner at his place, and twice they'd gone to his hide-out in the woods. On their last visit he'd taken his crossbow and she'd thoroughly enjoyed watching him shoot at the targets. She smiled to herself remembering when she told him he looked sexy, he'd gotten so embarrassed by her remark he'd missed his next shot altogether.

And of course there'd been meals out and gatherings in the courtyard with the group. It had all been so good and she did feel like he had really "let her in," and she in turn had been very open with him. There was still plenty to learn about one another, but they were sure this foundation they were building was a firm one.

What this was between them was very different than anything either had ever experienced. It wasn't as though she'd never had a boyfriend, and he was a man in his mid 30's, so it wasn't as though he'd never known a woman. But this was different, a different form of intimacy. They were both open to it and willing to step outside their usual comfort zones, a step at a time. They'd begun to trust each other enough to share things they wouldn't normally discuss with anyone.

They were finding that although they were such different people, they had many similarities. Their wants and needs, dreams and goals, the things that held great importance to them, and the things that held little or no importance at all. Their feelings were the same when it came to these things.

As they understood this more and more they'd both begun feeling a lot more relaxed just being together.

But this relationship was still very new and although they'd certainly shared some physical intimacy, they'd kept it almost chaste with the physical side. It wasn't that they weren't both interested, they were very interested. It wasn't shyness or fear. It was something else, they'd decided they wanted to really know each other before they took it to the next step.

There was no doubt holding off for that "right moment" was becoming more and more of a struggle.

* * *

He'd never let anyone get this close to him. He'd never been a person to "share." He spent his entire childhood having it pounded into him that he shouldn't share, that family business was family business. And so during the 17 years he'd lived with his old man he'd learned to bury his feelings deep and be careful never to let them see the light of day. And his experience with Paula had only served to strengthen his resolve to never let anyone "really" in his life.

But with Beth it was like he could physically feel those walls cracking and crumbling, and what surprised him the most about that was he was okay with it. He still had a fear of letting anyone completely in, even her. But now he knew if anyone did finally break those walls down entirely it would be Beth Greene.

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They'd decided to leave about eight Saturday morning. They'd have plenty of time to stop for a leisurely lunch along the way, and not feel rushed getting themselves ready for the evening when they arrived.

He'd already loaded her paintings in the back of the SUV, the four she'd decided were her best works. He was taking four sculptures which he'd wrapped and packed in a box to safely ride next to the paintings.

The back seat was reserved for their luggage and he smiled as he loaded her suitcase and garment bags, "Damn this is a lotta stuff for one night. Are ya thinkin' a just movin' in?" He was in a happy, playful mood and she loved that side him. He didn't always let himself go to that place but when he did it looked so good on him. And on those rare occasions when he let himself really smile, he had the best smile she'd ever seen.

But she was stressed and it came out, "I know it's ridiculous. You get the fancy dress but that's just the start. Then you have to have the fancy shoes and the fancy handbag, and the jewelry, and that has to be impressive too. And don't even remind me about the special undergarments which frankly are incredibly uncomfortable. Whoever designed those hates women. Just don't even get me started Daryl."

He thought it was too late, she was already started. She seemed so pissed off about whatever that underwear was he couldn't help himself, "Damn all I brought was just my regular skivvies. I didn't know I needed special party underwear." He'd embarrassed himself but she just looked so damn cute he had to have a little fun with her.

"Yeah well men just have no idea what women go through to squeeze it in and push it up, it's all just so uncomfortable its actually painful."

He was pretty sure he knew what the pushing up part was, but he had other concerns. "Wait. What? What're ya squeezin' in?" That just didn't sound good.

"My fat I guess, my stomach."

"Oh bullshit ya ain't got nuthin' there ta squeeze in. Just wear whatever the hell ya always wear. Dumbest shit I ever heard. C'mon lemme help ya in the rig."

He'd made her smile and she realized she was taking it all a little too seriously, letting it make her crabby. She decided he was right she wasn't going to wear those awful undergarments. "Thank you Daryl," She kissed his cheek as he helped her into the big SUV.

"For what?"

"For being you."

"Pfft."

* * *

It was a pretty straight shot from Savannah to Riviera Beach via I-95. They drove mostly in a comfortable silence, occasionally talking but for the most part just taking in the scenery, listening to music and thinking of the evening to come.

They stopped for lunch in Cocoa Beach at a place called Coconuts. "Well if I'm not wearing painfully uncomfortable underwear tonight I guess I'd better eat light so nothing bulges."

"I told ya that's bullshit. I never knew you was so concerned about bulges. Ya ain't even got any, I don't get it. Eat some lunch you're gonna need it. These people drink heavy an eat late. Could be eight or nine by the time they serve dinner."

"Oh my gosh, well in that case I'll have the calamari appetizer and the crab cake sandwich, and maybe some sweet potato fries."

He was looking at her with a half smirk on his face, "Well that oughta do the trick, for a couple hours anyway."

* * *

They pulled onto the property at exactly four o'clock and Beth was amazed at the opulence. The landscaping was lush and gave the appearance of a tropical jungle, if tropical jungles were perfectly manicured. "My gosh Daryl I can't believe this." And then she saw the main house. It looked like a plantation house except much, much larger. She was surprised when he didn't stop to say hello to their hosts and she asked him why.

"They left me a key at the guest house. I'm guessin' they ain't seein' guests till the party starts. They aren't the kinda folks that appreciate other folks droppin' by for a visit. Their socializin' is all real carefully planned. Howz that appeal to ya?"

"Gee I had a drop in visitor bring me dinner just about three weeks ago and it was wonderful, and he was wonderful. So I think drop ins may be my favorite guests."

He smiled as he looked at her from the corner of his eye , "The smartest thing I ever did was cook ya dinner."

The guest house had its own driveway and to her way of thinking nothing about the structure said, "Guest House." Most people would be thrilled to have this place as their home.

He helped her from the SUV and held her hand as they walked to the door. There was a small box with a digital key pad mounted near the front door. He punched in four numbers and it opened to reveal the key.

They walked into a beautiful main room that had obviously been professionally decorated. It was a showplace. Everything was "the latest" in home fashions, right down to the table top décor. She was thinking it was too perfect, too planned. It gave off just about as much of a "homey" feel as the showroom floor.

There was a stunning chef's kitchen she was willing to bet had never been used, with a dining table that would comfortably seat ten. He looked at her with a smile, "Well whaddya think? Ya wanna move in?"

"Not at all. I'd much rather live at the hide-out."

He thought he felt his mouth fall open, this woman never stopped surprising him. He remembered when he'd brought Paula here and she couldn't stop oohing and aahing. She'd looked at him and declared, "This is the way I expect to live." Not in a happy, or teasing, or even envious way, it had felt like a demand and he could still remember bristling at her remark.

He leaned in and softly kissed Beth's cheek, "I'll go get your stuff."

Damn she made him happy and he wanted so much for this night to go well for her. He couldn't give a shit less about these assholes and whether or not any of them ever bought anything of his, but he wanted her work to be a hit. He wanted her to have a successful evening.

"Okay Beth, c'mon I'll show ya where your room is."

She followed him as he walked through a large set of French doors and when she saw the room all she could say was, "Oh my." She wished Mama and Maggie could see it. It was something, starting with the carpet which was bright white. She could practically hear Mama say "Who in the world has white carpet?" She was almost afraid to walk on it. The room was enormous, it felt about the size of her entire apartment and the furnishings were not one bit beachy, they looked more like something from the Palace at Versailles. She couldn't help but giggle, "Well I guess this will just have to do."

"Yeah we're slummin' it tonight but don't ya worry, tomorrow I'll have ya right back in the lap a luxury."

"Thank God, I don't know how long I could put up with this shabby little place."

They shared a laugh but she told him, "Seriously Daryl I'm afraid to touch anything, shoot I'm afraid to walk on the carpet!"

"Well don't be, hell they got a whole bunch a people here just ta clean up after us riff raff."

She walked into the en suite and called, "Daryl quick come here!"

He rushed in thinking something was wrong, but that wasn't it at all. Sitting on a small table next to the oversized jetted tub there was a bottle of champagne on ice, two champagne glasses, and a tray of chocolates and strawberries. The tub was surrounded by candles of varying sizes.

"Shit I hope they left me a six pack a beer an some beef jerky next ta my shower." He was laughing and that made her smile, when he got in this kind of mood he could just be so funny. But then he got a little more serious look on his face, "It does look kinda sexy, don't it?"

She knew she was blushing but she whispered, "Yes it does."

He moved his hand up softly caressing the back of her head, his fingers twining in her hair as he brought his lips to hers and kissed her deeply. It was inviting and there wasn't a doubt in his mind that he wanted this next step with her, but this bathtub was not where he wanted that first time to happen.

"I better go get my stuff, then we can see the kinda ratty room they give ta redneck whittlers."

In a way she was a little disappointed something hadn't happened between them then, but then again she really couldn't imagine their first time being in this bathtub.

He carried his stuff in and she followed him through the big French doors that led to his room. It was enormous just like hers. It had the same crazy white carpet as her room, and the décor was also reminiscent of the Palace at Versailles, the king's bedroom. "I ain't use ta stayin' somewhere so humble but I s'pose I can tough it out for one night." She still hadn't seen his bedroom at home and she was real curious about it.

"I've always admired that about you Daryl, you're very brave."

Centered near the foot of his bed was a large tray that held a bucket of beer on ice and two covered bowls, one containing mixed nuts and the other pretzels.

"Your prayers were answered Daryl a bucket of beers!"

"Yeah but no jerky, damn," He smiled as he twisted the cap off one of the bottles and took a deep swallow. "Ya want one?"

"No I'd better wait for the party I don't want to get drunk."

"Yeah ya are kind of a lightweight with the drinkin'." And he did it again, he just had to, he put an arm around her shoulders, pulled her close to him and kissed her with quite a bit more heat than she'd been expecting. But she didn't mind it one bit.

He breathed in deeply, "We're either gettin' ready ta go ta this wing ding or we're stayin' in all night. If we keep this up we're stayin' in. I know which I prefer but I wouldn't want ya ta miss your chance at fame an fortune."

"It's a very tough choice Daryl."

He kissed her forehead and smiled, "Ya ain't gotta tell me that Darlin'." He'd never used a term of endearment with her and it made her smile.

"Alright I think I'd better go get in that tub, it'll take me an hour after that to try and do something with this hair." He was fighting the urge to just go ahead and follow her to that tub.

Instead he smiled, "Well don't do too much, I like it like that."

She walked away thinking, best boyfriend ever.

* * *

She was ready except to zip her dress but she couldn't seem to get those last few inches herself. She walked toward his room to ask for his help. His doors were open just a little and she saw him standing there with his back to her. Her heart caught in her throat.

It looked like he was fiddling with something laying there on the dresser, cufflinks maybe. He was in his stocking feet, he had his slacks on but the looseness of them told her they weren't buttoned or zipped, and he was shirtless. She'd expected his back would be broad and muscular, and it was. What she hadn't expected was it would be covered in horrible looking scars. Someone had obviously brutalized him. The two dark tattoos on his shoulder blade couldn't even distract her enough to look away from the scaring.

She took a deep breath, calming herself the best she could before speaking, "Daryl? I need a little favor."

He turned quickly certain she'd seen, how could she miss it? And the tone of her voice left no doubt. Before anything further was said he hurried to explained, "It happened a long time ago Beth. I's gonna talk to ya about it before we, ya know. It just ain't sumthin' ya bring up in casual conversation so I was tryin' ta find the right time. I even thought it might be later tonight."

"You don't have to explain anything to me Daryl, it's your decision whether or not you want to talk to me about things."

He paused drawing in a deep breath, "Nah, it's okay. We said we were gonna be open an I mean ta be. Like I said, just never seemed like the right time ta bring it up. The short version of it is my ol' man was a horse's ass who'd just as soon hit ya as look at ya. He left a lotta scars on me an Merle both. It ain't sumthin' I'm ashamed of but I also ain't proud of it. I spent a long time working it out in my mind an I've learned ta deal with the memories. I can tell ya this, I ain't nuthin' like him an neither's Merle. We made a promise ta each other when we was still just kids, we was never gonna be like him."

She crossed the room quickly, wrapping her arms around his waist and she looked up in his eyes, "I would never think that of you. I already know you're a good man."

He put his arms around her and they just held each other for a long moment, then he spoke, "I'll tell ya whatever ya wanna know about all that, but for now I think we should try an forget about it an get goin' ta this party. K?"

"Yes, I just need you to zip my dress." She knew they'd talk about it at length another time very soon, but for now he was right, they had other things they were obligated to do. Still it was very disturbing to think someone had treated him so cruelly.

Finally he stood back and really took a look at her. The dress was a full length gown covered in blush colored sequins. It was sleeveless with a razorback cut and a haltertop neckline. "Damn girl what are ya, a movie star? Seriously. Ya always look pretty but man that dress fits ya like a glove. An yeah, no special underwear required."

Yep, best boyfriend ever.

"Thank you Daryl," She wasn't sure why she was blushing now, "It's got one of those hidden zippers and I can't get enough of a grip on it to get it myself."

She turned her back toward him and his pent up desire took over, his hands went to her bare shoulders, caressing them softly while his lips went to her neck. He began kissing and lightly nibbling the tender skin as their bodies moved closer together. His hands slid down to her hips and he gently held her lower body into his.

Slowly, reluctantly he forced himself to stop. "Shit ya got me all worked up Darlin' an I'ma be misbehavin' if ya don't quit it." She noticed his voice had a rougher, throatier quality to it.

"I thought it was you who'd gotten me worked up and wanting to misbehave." Once again he'd left her feeling breathless.

He turned her slowly around, smiling softly as he gently placed a hand to the side of her face, "Well I'm kinda glad I's able to." She jokingly punched at his shoulder and he finished that zip up job.

She didn't bother leaving his room as he hurriedly finished getting himself dressed, and he didn't seem to mind that she was there. When he put that last cufflink in and smiled, "All ready." She swore he was the most gorgeous man she'd ever seen.

"You sure do cleanup nice Mister Dixon."

They pulled in front of the big house and were immediately greeted by a formally dressed valet. He opened Daryl's door and asked, "Your name please sir."

Daryl gave him their names and the valet checked the guest list for them, "Welcome Mr. Dixon, Ms. Greene. Do you have art with you Sir?"

"Yeah, it's in the back."

"Alright we have staff to carry that in and set it up for you."

"Yeah okay, but we're gonna wanna follow him an make sure everythin's alright." He was going to make certain no one stuck Beth's paintings back in some dark corner.

"Certainly Sir, whatever you're comfortable with." And when they got to the grand ballroom where all the art was displayed he was glad he'd followed. He made the guy move them from where he'd started to place them to right up front and center. She just watched him, impressed and grateful.

"He crooked his arm and held his elbow out to her, "Shall we." She slipped her hand into that crook and he winked at her, "You're gonna be the prettiest and most talented artist here Beth Greene."

She smiled again thinking to herself, best boyfriend ever.

They entered the main reception area and were immediately offered champagne by a gentleman carrying several full glasses on a tray. No sooner did they each have a glass in hand than a woman with a tray of appetizers approached them. Beth declined with a smile and that smile spread when Daryl grabbed two and quickly popped them both in his mouth.

A man and woman came over to them then, "Daryl Dixon I couldn't be more honored that you've decided to join us. I don't think anyone's seen you out and about in close to three years. And this must be Beth Greene."

Daryl smiled and it look great, natural, but she already knew him well enough to know it was forced. "Yep been laying low, nose ta the grindstone an all. An yeah this is the very talented Beth Greene. Beth these are our hosts, Ronald and Beverly St. Amour."

Beth smiled at the couple, "So nice to meet you, thank you for inviting me and for showing my paintings."

The wife spoke now, "Lovely to meet you dear. I hope you have a wonderful evening. Now I'm so sorry but I really must get around and greet my other guests."

What she said was very nice but Beth couldn't detect an ounce of sincerity in her words.

As much as Daryl hated everything about mingling, including the word, he knew that was what had to happen, Beth needed to mingle.

He took her slowly around the room introducing her to the artists and critics he knew.

Soon a little bell dinged and Ronald St. Amour made an announcement, "Please everyone, join us in the grand ballroom and enjoy the beautiful art on display this evening."

This was the big moment and she proudly took Daryl's arm as he led the way.

She was thrilled with the attention her work was getting. A critic approached her and asked several questions including if he could photograph her art to go with the brief interview. She didn't know how to respond to that, she looked at Daryl and he gave her the slightest nod of his head.

When the critic had taken his photos and walked away Daryl whispered, "I know who the guy is, he'll do nice little write-up on ya, you'll get some publicity."

No sooner had he told her that than she was approached by a gallery owner, while Daryl was asked if he had a moment to talk about some commission work.

They were separated after that. She was being kept very busy discussing her art with buyers and critics and it was thrilling for her. She glanced over and saw him and it was obvious then, he was a huge celebrity in this world and everyone wanted to talk to him. She'd known he was a big deal, and he had been out of the public eye for a long time so she understood the interest. She also knew him well enough to know he didn't care at all for the attention, that he preferred that more reclusive life.

A server came by and handed her another glass of champagne, and she was just now having a moment to catch her breath when a woman approached her. "Hi there, you're Beth Greene right? I'm Cicely Campbell, I own a gallery in Miami."

"It's very nice to meet you Cicely." Beth was excited, perhaps this woman was another gallery owner interested in selling her paintings.

That wasn't what the woman was interested in at all. "So you're here with Daryl Dixon?"

"Yes he and I are showing out art."

"Poor Daryl, Paula really broke his heart didn't she? My gosh this is the first time he's been out in years. He must have been so devastated."

Beth was confused and a little hurt. He'd told her he'd never been in a serious relationship. If that was the case why was he so devastated by this Paula woman? She managed to maintain her cool and act as though the remark hadn't upset her, "I don't know Paula and I certainly can't speak to how Daryl may have felt about her."

"Oh you may not know her but you know her work, everyone does. It's Paula Stone the metal sculptor. Isn't that just such a perfect pairing, two sculptor's with different mediums? So romantic."

Beth could see clearly that the woman was baiting her, deliberately trying to shake her up. Beth didn't know why but it was obvious that was her goal. Still she was hurt, why hadn't he shared this with her? "Yes I'm familiar with her work and I'm sure it's very nice if you like that sort of thing." She could be snarky when pushed.

That brought the woman down just a little, "Yes well good luck, especially a girl like you trying to hold onto a man like him." Beth hated that this woman had actually gotten to her, upset her. She was just hoping that hadn't been obvious.

Now she was on edge and she just wanted to talk to Daryl and have him explain. She glanced around and spotted him, but of course he was surrounded by people. She caught his eye and he nodded and smiled toward her, she just stared back.

At least a bright spot appeared then. A collector from North Carolina stopped to talk to her. He told her how special her work was and that he'd love to give his wife some of her paintings. He asked to purchase the four she'd brought with her immediately. He didn't even try to dicker and of course she agreed.

"Wonderful, thank you my dear. I'll leave them set up right here so everyone can enjoy them before I take them home."

At least that had gone right. But she was tired of all of this. She was tired of standing there in her heels, and it was nearly nine and she was starving, but none of that really mattered. What mattered was how sad she felt.

That was when the announcement was made for everyone to please gather in the dining room for dinner.

Finally Daryl was by her side again and she was relieved, but also feeling anxious and angry. She tried to put on a good face as they walked to the dining room. The last thing she wanted was some kind of a scene.

There were place cards and she was surprised and disappointed to see she and Daryl were not seated together. She was also bewildered as to why she would be seated near the head of the table right next to her hostess, Beverly. Daryl on the other hand was at the center of the table on the opposite side seated between two women, and one of them was that awful creature Cicely. She was talking away and she kept touching him, his hand, his arm. Beth could see how uncomfortable he was, but she herself was so upset she was having real issues trying to work up any sympathy for him. He owed her some explanations.

Before they'd ever sat down for dinner Daryl could tell Beth wasn't happy, he just didn't know why. He assumed it had something to do with a negative comment some jerk may have made about her work. Some of the people in attendance were first class assholes. And he was disappointed they hadn't been seated together for dinner. He didn't understand why they seemed to get such a kick out of that stuff at these dinners; deliberately separating spouses and couples. It was just weird to him but then a lot about the way they did things seemed weird to him.

Just to make a bad situation worse they'd seated him next to that crazy woman Cicely, Paula's best buddy. She bugged the shit out of him. She was loud, gossipy, always touching him, but the worst thing was she was always trying to talk him into giving Paula one more chance. That was never going to happen, especially not now. There was only one woman he was interested in, Beth.

There was some terrible looking and equally awful tasting cold consommé served, and she was trying to be polite and at least take a couple of swallows. Then Beverly leaned in and touched Beth's hand as she spoke, "I'm so glad you could come Beth, I've been dying to meet Daryl's latest. It must be very exciting for someone like you to be seen with him. But I'm sure you realize that if Paula couldn't hold onto him you certainly can't. I was convinced they would be together forever it was so obvious they were in love. But some men just can't settle down."

Beth was hurt and angry, angry with this woman. Why would she talk to someone who was supposed to be a guest with such disregard for that person's feelings? She may have money but she sure didn't have class.

And she was angry with Daryl, why would he put her in this position, subject her to this? Even more than that though, she was hurt. Who was Paula? Was Beth really just his latest? Was the shy, awkward and reclusive Daryl just an act?

No, she didn't really think that could be the case, but she was determined to find out exactly what the deal was.

As starving as she was she just couldn't eat so she did a lot of pretending and moving her food around on her plate. She just wanted to get out of this place, what she really wanted was to just be home in her own apartment.

When dinner was done he immediately came over to her and said apologetically, "Sorry Beth I wanted ta sit with ya. I hate this shit."

He knew things were bad when she gave him a withering look and said, "Get me out of here now."

He didn't flinch at the demanding tone in her voice and he didn't ask questions, he just did what she asked.

She never spoke a word on the way back to the guest house, which was a mercifully short drive. He didn't either he was just waiting for whatever was coming.

As soon as they were in the living room she looked at him and asked, "Who's Paula and am I just your latest?"

"Fuck."

An hour and a half later that SUV left the property.

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 **A/N Well dang, things got rough there at the end. We'll cover all the details next chapter. Thanks so much for reading and I would appreciate your comments / reviews. Happy Thanksgiving! x gneebee**

 **The chapter photo is posted on my tumblr blog bethylmethbrick - they're a beautiful pair! I had a PM from one of my FF friends,** **GracieMae11, the other day. She mentioned the photo of Norman and said she thought it would be perfect for the "party" chapter. I told her I couldn't agree more because I'd already chosen it and done the art! Great minds and all. I love it when you guys come to me with your ideas, etc. never stop that PLEASE. If you have a chance, I hope you'll check out my other current Bethyl story, Trouble in Mind. Again I thank you, I'm grateful for you and as you know, I love ya large! xo gneebee**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N I do thank you all so much. I know I made you mad at the end of the last chapter, and I was pretty darn happy none of you knew where I live ;) We left our couple in a helluva mess, let's see how it plays out.**

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"Beth, aw shit please, sit with me n talk, please. I had no idea whatever this was was gonna happen. Tell me what the hell an lemme have a chance ta answer for it. I got nuthin' I'm tryin' ta hide from ya about Paula or anythin' else. Please." He'd been blindsided and he was scrambling for words, wanting desperately to fix whatever had gone so wrong.

They'd agreed to never "do that thing" again. The thing where they just assumed something. They'd both made that mistake in the beginning and nearly missed the opportunity to even give this relationship a shot. Beth pursed her lips, nodded and sat down with him. "Okay, I'd like to know."

She told him about Cicely approaching her at the party and mentioning Paula and how devastated he'd been when the relationship ended. And then she told him exactly what Beverly had said to her, about her being his "latest" and if Paula couldn't hold him she surely couldn't, "She said some men, and she was definitely talking about you, just can't settle down."

He saw what was going on now. Cicely had asked him about Paula, let him know the woman was interested in trying again. That she wanted to make it all up to him. He'd made it clear to Cicely he had no interest in resuming anything with Paula. He was with Beth. Not only that, he told her he had never really felt "it" for Paula, that as far as he was concerned there had never been anything romantic or even remotely "real" between them.

But the woman wouldn't let up, she'd just kept touching his arm and his hand, and telling him she was sure it could work between him and Paula, all he had to do was give it a chance. Never did it occur to him Cicely had said something to Beth.

* * *

He didn't need to tell her, Beth could see just by looking at him how angry he was. His eyes had squinted to a hard glare, he was rubbing his hand over the back of his neck and chewing that lip.

He knew he was on thin ice, he knew how much he cared and he sure as hell didn't want to lose what he had with her. "First off, I'm sorry Beth. I had no idea you'd have ta put up with any a this bullshit. That was three years ago an it was never like that with her an me. There was no love there, emotional or any other kinda way. Nuthin'."

Daryl didn't hold back, "I met Paula cuz she kept comin' around my shop, wantin' ta talk about art an the business side a bein' an artist. She was just gettin' started in the art world where I's already successful. She seemed nice enough and yeah, even pretty. She showed me some a her pieces one day an I could see she had talent. "

"At first it was like she was just wantin' ta talk ta me about all that stuff, an she seemed nice enough. I thought she was sincere. Pretty soon she was askin' me ta please take her here n there ta meet the 'important' people in the business. It seemed like she always knew about every gallery openin' or art gatherin' of any kind."

"I's doin' alotta that stuff back then, tryin' ta keep my name 'out there' an hopin' ta get some commission work. She'd ask ta tag along an truth is I liked not havin' ta always go alone. She seemed real nice an I didn't mind helpin' her out. But then I started ta see she wanted sumthin' more'n what I wanted. She made me feel real uneasy. I didn't wanna hurt her feelins, an I think ya know me well enough now I ain't real well versed on how ta handle this stuff. It was embarrassin' for me, the way she'd hang on, holdin' onto my arm, standin' way too close, rubbin' on my back. Lookin' back later I knew she was puttin' on a show, tryin' ta play it like we were together an serious an all. But at the time I just felt bad cuz I didn't have any kinda romantic feelins for her."

"Then she started pushin' real hard for the, ya know, physical stuff. It ain't that I don't like that stuff, it's just that I didn't want that with her cuz I's tryin' not ta hurt her."

"Merle tried warnin' me she was up ta no good, he called her a famewhore. We damn near had it out. I thought he was just bein' an asshole when he said she was usin' me ta try an get her own career goin'."

"Then one mornin' Tara come ta me an said she wanted ta show me sumthin' in private. She showed me these pictures on the Internet a me n Paula, they musta been photoshopped cuz it did look like we had sumthin' serious goin', an there was even a film on YouTube. An the interviews with her, the quotes an whatnot, she made it sound like we were a real serious deal. That's when I knew Merle was right all along."

"I's devastated Beth an it wasn't cuz I had feelins for her an she broke my heart or sumthin'. It was cuz I'd been tryin' ta be a good person, help someone out, an I just felt so damn used. I's hatin' on myself thinkin' I's the world's biggest idiot. A real sucker who couldn't spot a fraud."

"That's when I got my reputation for being a recluse. I kinda retreated from life. I quit goin' ta all the stuff, the parties, the showins, the gallery openins. Everyone just thought I's that stereotype, the reclusive temperamental artist. I didn't care what they thought. I's angry, bitter, my self-confidence was in the hopper an I just wanted ta be left alone."

"Ever since I just left the runnin' a things ta Tara an I did my art. That was it, well an huntin, fishin an hangin' in the courtyard with the few people I trusted. Shit I had no intention a even showin' ya the apartment that day ya come in. Tara come an got me an said she didn't have time, she was in the middle a some real important paperwork. I's pissed off at her. Anyway, when I seen ya I knew why she done it." He got the tiniest of smiles on his lips then.

Beth interjected, "At dinner Beverly definitely talked like you were quite the lady's man."

He almost laughed, "Yeah that's me alright, quite the smooth talker, ain't I? It seems both those women was tryin' ta start trouble with me an you. They was wantin' me ta give Paula a chance. I told that Cicely I wasn't interested, that it never had been like that an I's only interested in you."

Beth was confused, "I don't understand why they'd do that. Why would they be so mean?"

"Well Cicely's made alotta money sellin' Paula's work, an she probably thinks it'd help Paula's career. Get her in the spotlight more if she was with me. That sounds like I think I'm some kinda big deal, but its' how the game is played. An I think she an Paula are good friends, as good a friends as real shallow people are ta each other. Paula lives down in Miami these days."

"As for Beverly, well I know she bought alotta Paula's work early on when it was still cheap. I'd bet she's hopin' that it'll turn into a real good investment. She might think, or Cicely mighta encouraged her ta think, bein with me would somehow give Paula a career boost. Then when Paula's career is at its peak, she could start sellin' off those pieces she has an make a big profit. She ain't the kind who buys art cuz she appreciates it. Ronald he's more of a real art lover. Beverly's in it ta make money."

He took a deep breath and looked at her thinking he would have never shared all of that with anyone but her. He could imagine himself being put in this same position with someone else, he'd be saying "fuck it" and walking away. But he could never do that with Beth. He didn't want this thing he'd started with her to end. He was willing to explain himself, explain the situation and above all be open and honest with her.

"Shit, now I thought a sumthin' else I gotta tell ya. Man, I don't wanna bring it up but I promised I'd tell ya everythin' an so I'ma keep my word. Three years ago I come down here for another party an Paula came too. She an I stayed here in this guest house. At least that's how it started. I told ya she wanted her an me ta be ya know, together, she made it real clear that night. It got kinda ugly an I ended up leavin', goin' ta a little out a the way motel. She was madder'n hell at me but I had ta get out cuz I's just too uncomfortable. The next mornin' we went back ta Georgia. It was only a week or so after that Tara showed me the stuff on the Internet."

He could see the tears in her eyes and he felt like the world's biggest asshole, but he'd promised not to hold anything back and he was keeping his word. The way things had gone he figured it was only a matter of time before someone somewhere mentioned it.

"I'm sorry Beth, I never thought about anyone bringin' her up. It's been a long time. As far as me havin' a buncha other women, shit I ain't been out with a woman since that whole Paula deal blew up. I hadn't really been much a one ta date anyway, an I never thought I'd ever date anyone again. I's sure I'd never trust anyone ever again. But when I met you ya changed my mind. Please forgive me for not tellin', I woulda an shoulda an I'm so fuckin' sorry."

She was quiet, alternating between looking at him and looking down. He had already become such an important part of her life. She believed him. She'd watched his face, looked in his eyes, and listened to the timbre of his voice as he told the story. And it was her gut, she'd felt it since that first night in the courtyard, he was an honest man who may not talk real openly, but it wasn't because he had something to hide. It was just the person he was. She knew how hard it had been on him to tell her everything and in a way she admired him for it. "Thank you for telling me all that Daryl, I know it was hard for you. I can't believe someone would treat another person that way, use you that way. I also can't imagine talking to anyone like those women talked to me. All of it just baffles me."

"I don't want to fight with you, but I'm still hurt. I had a certain idea in my head of how this evening would go for us, with us, and none of what I'd thought was what happened. So besides feeling hurt I'm feeling down. And I sure don't want to stay here in this place, not tonight and not ever."

"We can go but I can't drive all the way back ta Savannah. It wouldn't be safe. I'm tired, I been drinkin' some, I just wouldn't take that chance with ya."

Her stomach growled loudly and she immediately turned red, "I didn't eat and I'm so hungry."

"Alright we'll get our stuff an get the hell outta here. I know where there's an all-night café. We'll grab a bite an find a place ta stay. K?"

"Yes, that sounds good."

* * *

They changed their clothes and packed quickly, he hurriedly loaded their things in the SUV, and they were off.

He didn't say anything on the ride to the café, he wasn't going to push it. He knew she wasn't happy with him or the situation, but she hadn't balked at going to eat and then getting a room. That was all good as far as he was concerned. He was just going to wait now and let her say whatever she needed to say.

He helped her from the pickup and they went in the small restaurant, taking seats across from one another in a far booth. When the waitress came he ordered decaf and she ordered an herbal tea. They continued in silence as they looked at their menus.

He hadn't eaten much at the party either and he was definitely hungry, but he was also real nervous, worried about what she was thinking. He was afraid she might decide he wasn't worth her trouble. That he had kept too much from her and she'd have all those trust issues that he used to have. The ones he'd had before he met her, the ones he didn't have with her.

She'd been playing the evening over in her head, well the whole day really. Thinking about their joking that morning as he loaded the vehicle for their trip, how he'd playfully gotten her out of her crabby mood. The fun lunch they'd shared and the silliness when they saw their bedrooms. She thought about him making sure her paintings were well-displayed, and the fact that he'd walked her around and introduced her to as many people as he could. She realized he hated these events and yet he'd come to this one just for her, so she could have her work "seen." He certainly didn't need the exposure for his art. He was quoting people a two to three year lead time on commission jobs.

She knew Daryl was a good man, and she knew he was also a man who was not especially socially adept. And the biggest truth she knew was that she cared about him, a lot, that she wanted him in her life. She was still upset, a little sad and disappointed, but that didn't mean she was ready to give up on him.

They offered breakfast 24 hours a day and she ordered the spinach and mushroom omelet, he ordered a ham and cheese. When the waitress left Beth looked in his eyes, "I know you didn't mean for this to happen. I know you wouldn't have put me or yourself in that position if you would have had any idea what was coming. I believe everything you told me about Paula and your relationship with her, that it was nothing. But it hurts, and it was all just so unexpected and I didn't know how to deal with any of it."

"Thanks for believin' me Beth cuz I swear I wouldn't lie to ya. From what ya told me ya handled those women just right. They was tryin' ta get a rise outta ya, they wanted ya ta react an ya didn't. That's why I'ma suggest sumthin' now, you can think about it, it's up ta you."

"Okay."

"I think we should go ta the brunch tomorrow an act like nuthin' happened, like ya never gave anythin' they said another minute a thought. Don't let 'em win this dumbass game they're playin'. I promise I won't leave your side an we'll get outta there as soon as we can an get ourselves home."

It did make sense but she just didn't know if she could stand it, "I'll think about it, maybe a full stomach and a night's sleep will help."

"Alright, I'll do it whatever way ya want Beth."

They fell back into silence as the meals were served and they ate. But at least it didn't feel like this silence was uncomfortable. It felt relaxed, natural. He was just hoping that the worst of whatever was over. He understood she was hurt, and it might have been avoided if he would have thought about things a little more carefully. But she'd said she believed him and he hoped that was enough.

* * *

He took her to the nicest hotel he knew of and pulled in front. "I'll go see about gettin' a room."

"I'll go with you."

He got to the desk and it dawned on him then, "I s'pose I best get two rooms."

She took his hand, "I think we can share."

He thought maybe he felt his heart leap but he was trying to be careful not to read too much into it. Maybe she was just trying to save money. Maybe she thought he could sleep on the sofa. Who knew? But what he did know was that at least she didn't hate him.

The bed was already turned down and there were two of those fluffy guest bathrobes laying on it. She took one and her suitcase in the bathroom. When she came out she had her nightie on, the oversized bathrobe that could hold at least two of her, a pair of fuzzy looking slippers, and she was carrying the bottle of champagne that had been in the guest house.

He broke into a smile when he saw her, he just thought she looked so damn cute. She tried to look tough as she held up the champagne bottle, "That mean old Beverly owed me this."

It made him laugh, "Darlin' she owed ya that an then some. I'll go get some ice in the bucket, chill it down."

Her tension had eased too and she smiled, "Sounds good to me."

* * *

He stuck the bottle in the ice and then he went in the bathroom, coming out in a pair of sleep pants with his robe hanging open.

He turned the TV to a music station playing some soft instrumentals and opened the bottle. "Stayed pretty chilly, I think we're in business."

He poured them each a glass, they sat on the sofa and he raised his glass in a toast to her, "Ya mean so much ta me Beth I can't stand that I hurt ya. I promise I'ma try my best ta never hurt ya again. I don't wanna lose ya."

She raised her glass to him, "I know you didn't mean for it to happen, and I know you weren't deliberately trying to hide something from me. I already forgave you because Daryl, I don't want to lose you either."

It was like they could feel the tension leave the room with her statement. They clinked glasses and each took a swallow before he set his down on the cocktail table. He slipped an arm around her shoulders and leaned in, drawing her close as he kissed her with an intense blend of passion and tenderness.

He hated to pull his lips away but he didn't want to push it, he was testing the waters a little. And he sure didn't want to rush her. "Tell me the good things that happened tonight Beth, I heard Archie bought all your paintings for his wife. That's damned impressive cuz Archie knows good art."

"He was very nice and also interested in buying more. He said he was going to be bringing his wife to my studio. Then there was a gallery owner from Atlanta who showed interest. I was expecting her to tell me to bring some of my work to her and she'd decide if there was anything she cared to display, but instead she said she was coming to the shop on Tuesday."

"And ya had one a the top art critics in this part a the country interviewin' ya an takin' pictures. I tell ya girl you're gettin' phenomenal interest. I'm impressed, I'm thinkin' I better hurry an buy some a your work before the price goes up."

She playfully pretended to punch him in the shoulder and smiled, "When you say those perfect things I think about you telling me you don't have any game. Not true Mister Dixon, not true at all."

"Oh yeah, well how's this for game? I'm tired."

She smiled, "I bet you are, you had a long day of driving and then a big evening at the party, being the Belle of the Ball."

"Quit that. " But he was smiling as he stood and then held a hand out to her. They each carried their glass and he grabbed that bottle of champagne, setting it on his night table.

He went to her then, wrapping his arms around her, holding her close. "I's worried I'd never get ta hold ya again an I knew that would kill me." He kissed her with a hunger that left her no doubt where he wanted this to lead and she wasn't inclined to pretend she didn't want the same thing. She kissed him back with equal need.

He leaned back, shrugged out of his robe and let it fall to the floor before untying hers. He slipped his hands inside the robe and rested them softly on her shoulders while he asked, "Is this okay?"

"Yes." Was all she said, and that was all he needed to hear and her robe lay at her feet. He leaned in and kissed her shoulder and whispered, "You're so beautiful." His lips went to the delicate skin of her neck and ear, lightly sucking and nibbling at the soft skin. When his mouth moved to her lips again he kissed her hungrily, and then he looked at her, searching those blue eyes, "Will ya lay with me?"

She whispered, "Yes," and he knew he'd never felt as happy as he did in that moment.

He was lying with her next to him and again he was kissing, lightly nibbling and sucking at her neck and ear as he slid the nightie's strap off her shoulder. He propped himself up on an elbow, looking down into her eyes as he slowly ran his fingers through her hair. He placed soft kisses on her forehead and along her cheek and jawline. "I want this with ya Beth, I wanna make love with ya if it's what ya want too."

Again her answer was simply, "Yes," and again it was all he needed to hear.

They took their time, they both thought of this as the start of something that would last, just their beginning. There was no need to rush, this was the time to explore, to get to know each-others bodies and what brought them pleasure. They were expressing their emotional love, the deep feelings they had for one another, in a physical way.

And when they had taken each other to that place of the greatest physical pleasure, and they were lying spent in one anothers' arms he whispered those words to her, "I know it seems soon but I also know it's true, I love ya Beth."

Now she was the one with a hand on his cheek, looking in his eyes and she whispered, "I'm so happy because it's not too soon for me, I love you too."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They overslept, the brunch was at 11:30 and it was 10 when they woke. They hurried to get ready and when he saw her he said, "Darlin' ya make that dress look so good. I think my beautiful date is the one who's gonna be the Belle a the Ball today."

She loved the way he'd said it, it made her feel happy because whether or not it was really the case, she knew he meant it. It was true for him.

And she did feel pretty in the dress she felt so lucky to have found. It was black silk with splashes of tiny, brightly colored flowers. It was sleeveless and the bodice and waist were tight. The skirt was full and only about a half an inch shy of being dangerously too short, she'd paired it with ankle strap heels and the look really showed off her toned legs.

He was wearing a gray suit with a darker gray shirt and a narrow black tie. It seemed like an almost conservative look for an artist, but he somehow managed to make it look so incredibly sexy. "You look quite handsome yourself. I'm going to enjoy being your date and making all those other women green with envy."

She smiled and he was instantly embarrassed, "Quit."

They managed to arrive right on time and were ushered into a reception room where a few people were already gathered. He kept his arm loosely around her back with his open palm resting on her hip, holding her close to him. Almost immediately a waiter was there with a tray of mimosas. When they each had one in hand he lifted his to her, "Ta my favorite artist."

She was smiling that big beautiful smile just for him when Beverly approached them. She sounded quite catty as she remarked, "I'm so pleased you two made it, I was worried you may not come. I thought there was trouble. Gerald, the grounds man, said you two left last night." Beth thought she looked quite pleased with herself.

Daryl didn't miss his chance, "Well I wanted ta take this beautiful woman for a walk along the beach. I hadn't had a minute ta spend with her all evenin'. We got down there an well, it was all real romantic, an she just looked so damn good. I didn't think I could wait ta get her back here. I had ta get us a room."

Beth couldn't believe he'd said that, and she thought under any other circumstance she and Daryl would both die of embarrassment, but the stunned look and disappointment on Beverly's face was just so enjoyable.

The woman had lost a of bit of her composure, swallowing hard before saying, "Well we're so happy you're here." And she hurried away to chat with other guests.

"Oh my gawd Daryl, I can't believe you said that." She was red-faced and embarrassed but she couldn't help laughing.

"It worked didn't it? An I thought I's bein' real sweet when I shot her ass down." After their night together he was feeling a new sense of self-confidence.

Suddenly Cicely was there and she had a little surprise of her own, "Look who was able to make it today Daryl, oh and yeah Beth, it's Paula!"

Beth felt his arm tighten around her just a little as his palm rested more firmly on her hip. "Nice ta see ya again Paula. I been wantin' ta thank ya." Paula smiled then, anticipating something good was coming next. "Thanks for teachin' me about what's real an what ain't. Ya showed me exactly what I didn't want. So when a real woman walked into my life I recognized her right away. This here is Beth, the love a my life."

He'd even shocked himself. He didn't think he'd be able to pull it off, but the words wanted out. He wanted to shut these women and whatever plan they had down. And more important than that, he wanted Beth to see he had no reservations about their relationship or making it very public. She leaned into him a little more, amazed that he would say these things. She knew Daryl, he was awkward and shy but he'd said it with conviction and she fell for him even harder.

He kissed the top of her head. "Well it's been nice ta see y'all, me an Beth are gonna go mingle now. C'mon Darlin'."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 **A/N Better? Am I off the naughty list yet? Gosh I hope so. Thanks so much for hanging in and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please comment / review x gneebee**

 **The chapter photo is posted on my tumblr bethylmethbrick, and thanks to some art by andsowewalkalone it's pretty dang sexy! If you get a chance please check out some of my other stories, including my other two current Bethyls, _Trouble in Mind_ and _Little Love Stories_. I hope to see you next Thursday for more of _The Wood Sculptor_. Until then, I love ya large! xo gneebee**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N We had a lot going on last chapter, let's see what we can stir up this week :)**

xxxxxxxxxx

They stayed just until the meal was complete and they'd said their "thank yous" to the host and hostess, and yet it was already two thirty by the time they started for home. "I feel bad Daryl you must be exhausted, are you sure you're up to a long drive home?"

"Yeah I got it. If I get too tired we'll stop but I'd like ta just get my ass home."

She smiled, "You were amazing today Daryl. Thank you for showing me how much you care and that you're proud to be with me"

"Ya don't gotta thank me. I'd be a real dick if I let people get away with treatin' ya like that. They were wrong an I just tried ta help 'em see that. An I want people ta know I love ya. I'm a lucky guy."

In spite of everything they'd shared his words still made her blush. "Well I think you went above and beyond and I'll never forget it. The thing with the place cards really got poor Beverly shook up."

"I meant what I said. I'd already put up with that crap last night, the sittin' apart thing they do. I come with the person I wanted ta sit with. An just like I told her, if she didn't wanna move them cards around an let me sit by ya, well we could just be on our way. Besides I told ya I wasn't leavin' your side an I meant it."

He was hard not to love.

* * *

They talked a lot about the art they'd seen, what they liked or didn't like and why. They both agreed with the old saying that if you like it then it's good art. And Daryl told her about the people he'd spoken with. "I got offered three more commission jobs an agreed ta two of 'em. One I'm doin' is a piece for a guy outta Miami who wants a tabletop sculpture of sea life on a coral reef. I ain't done that before an I like the idea. The other is for a guy from over in Pensacola. He has a young grandson an he wanted a child holdin' the string of a balloon lookin' up at it and laughin'. I don't usually do fanciful stuff an hardly ever a kid. But the way the guy talked about that little boy made me want ta do it."

"Oh I love both of those ideas. Can I ask what you turned down?"

"Sure. What the guy wanted was fine with me, a carving of a boat ta look just like his old wooden Chris Craft. But when I told him I had a lotta work an I was runnin' at about two an a half years lead time, he asked me to put my other jobs aside an do his first, he said he'd pay extra. I don't work like that, it ain't right."

Just hearing him say that, it showed more of the man he was, the goodness of him, and it reinforced for her how happy she was she hadn't just walked away from him in her hurt and anger. That instead she'd chosen to listen to his story. "You're a good man Daryl."

"I don't know 'bout that but I like ta think I'm a fair man. I don't put anyone in front a anyone else just cuz they got more money."

"Because you're a good man."

xxxxx

It was ten o'clock, and they were just about thirty minutes from home. He took her hand and quietly asked, "Will ya stay with me tonight?"

She didn't have to think about it, "Yes."

It was late when they got in but they'd agreed a glass of wine would definitely help them de-stress after the long drive and big weekend. They sat on the sofa just quietly holding hands and he began to speak, "I ain't been ta one a those things in a long time. I knew I didn't care for 'em but I always thought it was just the socializin' part that I didn't feel comfortable with. That an feelin' like I was s'pose ta be sellin' myself. But now I got a clearer picture. So many a them people are so fake, they just ain't good people."

"But there were good people there too Daryl. I met some nice ones. But I understand what you're saying and I do agree there were some particularly mean ones. We won't mention names."

They both laughed softly then, they'd managed to put the hurt behind them. He set his glass down on the coffee and she set hers next to it. They didn't have to talk about it they knew where they wanted to be. He stood and held his hand out to her and she smiled as she took it and they walked to his room.

His bedroom was like none she'd ever seen in person or in a magazine. Like the rest of his home it spoke to his masculinity and yet seemed so warm and inviting. She didn't see anything she didn't like. The floors were hardwood but there was a huge area rug that went to within inches of the baseboards. And she wasn't at all surprised to see he had a king size bed with a carved headboard. The design was simple, a sort of free form pattern that gave a sense like water flowing and imparted a feeling of tranquility.

The bed was covered with a unique and quite folksy quilt. She'd never seen one like it. The pattern itself was simply a traditional box pattern, but the various fabrics used all appeared to be from plaid flannel work shirts. It was the kind of thing that if someone had told her about it she may have scrunched her nose up, but she loved it, it suited him perfectly.

"Where in the world did you get this quilt Daryl?"

He smiled at it and her, "Different ain't it? I bought it from a lady up in Appalachia who made it from the scraps of her husband an boys' old work shirts. "

One entire wall of the large room was lined with thick wood shelves filled with books on every type of art a person could think of, as well as art periodicals and journals. There were also shelves of books related to woods and wood carving. He even had a collection of classic novels, Jack London, John Steinbeck and Mark Twain, and they all looked to be originals or close to it.

But it was what was placed between the rows of books that further endeared him to her. He had his carvings. Ones he'd whittled when he was just a little boy, all the way through to his present work. It was like his own personal art history. She wanted to touch each one, they were each a part of him, a part of who he was. Seeing his creations displayed this way made her feel even closer to Daryl.

He had a reading corner with a pair of overstuffed chairs and a beautiful antique bronze floor lamp in between. Each chair had a small side table and she could just imagine herself curled up in one of those chairs reading for hours.

She excused herself to use the bathroom, and as she walked in the en suite she was struck by the feeling it was too nice to be a bathroom. There was rich wood cabinetry, a beautiful six foot claw footed bathtub, and a huge separate shower. The dual vessel sinks had a mosaic pattern of stone in varying beige tones, broken up with occasional rich browns. The counter top was recycled glass like the kitchen, but in far more earthy tones.

When she came from the bathroom she saw he was just pulling the covers down on the bed. He turned to her wordlessly, simply looking into her eyes as he slowly and methodically began removing her clothes. As each article of clothing was discarded he paused to kiss the skin it had covered, gently running his fingertips and lips over the ivory skin, telling her without words just how beautiful he believed her to be, how perfect. This careful, slow process brought with it a heightened sense of longing and anticipation like she had never felt. With each touch she craved more.

When only her panties remained he lifted her up and laid her on the bed. Then she watched as he stood beside that bed and removed his own clothes, never taking his eyes from her. He slid under the big quilt and at first they just held each other, each softly gliding their hands along the others' body, enjoying the sensual feeling of skin on skin. As the touching grew more and more intense they sought to pleasure each other.

xxxxx

They'd fallen asleep sated and exhausted by their lovemaking, and so when her phone began ringing at seven a.m they were both startled awake. She glanced at the caller I.D. and had a moment of panic, "Maggie? Is something wrong?"

What her sister told her had her off the phone and talking to him in a nervous tone. "Apparently someone was taking photos at the brunch yesterday. There are pictures on the Internet of you kissing me, with Paula looking on, and I guess there's even one of you with your hand on my butt. Maggie says they're everywhere on the art blogs and even on mainstream social media." She'd been worried he was going to react badly to this news, he was such a private person. Sure he may have done those things in front of the few people at the brunch, but she'd bet he never anticipated the next day there would be photos on the internet.

She couldn't have been more surprised when he started to laugh. "Hang on I'll get the laptop an we'll check it out."

They sat side by side in his bed as he scrolled through the sites. There were plenty of snarky headlines and comments, "Has The Reclusive Sculptor Been Hiding Out With A Sexy Secret?"

The New York Post's "Page Six" had the photo of Paula looking on, with a decidedly sour glare, as Daryl was holding Beth close and kissing her head, it was titled, "Sculptor Scraps Sculptor for Pretty Painter."

Brief articles on various sites told of the party, who attended and how the Sculptor had made it very clear to everyone present he was with the painter and he would not be separated from her. There was even the story of him telling the hostess if the place cards weren't moved so he was seated with the petite blond painter, he'd be leaving.

They remembered thinking they were being sneaky when for just a moment, as they stood in a far corner, his arms had wrapped around her and they'd shared a passionate kiss. That photo title read, "Sculptor Announces Pretty Young Painter is the Love of His Life, Then Demonstrates."

He looked at her smiling, "Well I guess the word is out." He was stunned by his own casual attitude. He would normally be embarrassed and angry. By now he'd be trying to find who'd taken the photos and who'd posted them, just so he could kick their ass. But he found he didn't care one bit if the world knew he loved Beth Greene.

Her phone rang again, oh no, "Mama?"

Evidently Maggie had called Mama and Daddy to let them know their younger daughter was getting lots of publicity, and apparently had a very serious boyfriend. "Okay Mama, yes, yes, I'm so sorry, I had no idea. I'll call you in just a little while, I promise. Okay, I'll talk to him. I love you Mama, please don't be mad and don't worry. Everything is fine, better than fine."

The thought of a Mama calling had never even occurred to him. He hadn't answered to a parent in years. The worst he ever expected was Merle calling to razz him, but shit Merle did that damn near everyday anyway. He knew his brother was going to give him a ration over this, but he also knew Merle would be happy for him. He'd been telling him for years he needed to find himself a good woman.

But yeah, this parent thing, this was different. "Your Mama's mad at ya?"

"Definitely. Mad I didn't tell them about you, mad I would leave the state and not let them know, and mad I got my picture taken kissing a man in public. My folks are very conservative, old-fashion. I'm going to kill Maggie for this one. She probably thought she was being funny calling them. I know them well enough to know the only thing they ever look at on the Internet is the weather and the farm report."

"So now what? What do ya do ta get off Mama an Daddy's shit list?"

"That's where you come in. They want me bringing you to Sunday dinner next week. Mama didn't even ask if maybe you'd like to. She was so angry she just said, 'You bring that man to dinner next Sunday so me and Daddy can meet this fella you think you ought to be kissing in front of the whole world.'"

He couldn't stop himself, he started laughing then, "So how old did ya say ya are?"

That made her laugh too, "That doesn't matter one bit to them, I'm always going to be their baby girl."

"Well I think that's kinda nice. They're looking out for ya, could be worse, what if they didn't give a shit what ya did? So exactly what kinda wing ding do they throw down on the farm?"

"You'd go?"

"Well yeah, it seems fair. I sure don't wanna have your Mama pissed off. Your Daddy have a gun does he?"

"Yes, more than one."

"I'll try n be on my best behavior."

* * *

He fixed them coffee and eggs and they sat together at the table as she told him about her family, the farm and growing up in a very conservative household.

"K, I won't cuss, I won't kiss ya, I won't grab your butt an I'll try ta act like I'm a decent guy."

"You're much better than just decent Daryl. You'll really go?"

"Well I ain't exactly all excited ta go look down the barrel a your Daddy's shotgun, while he's givin' me the stink eye an your Mama hollers at me, but I will. They're your Mama an Daddy."

* * *

They tried to hurry across the courtyard unseen, him carrying her bags and both of them smiling happily. They didn't see Tara as she watched them from the office window. He opened Beth's door and walked her in the apartment as Tara continued to watch. When he came out again and his smile was even bigger all she could think was she hadn't seen him look this happy ever. She kept watching until he disappeared into his own place.

She was still smiling to herself as she turned from the office window and went back to her desk. She felt the tiniest bit guilty for spying, but not really. She'd seen the photos on the internet and she'd been pretty certain that the one of them kissing was legit, it hadn't been photoshopped. And now she knew for sure.

He no sooner got back in his door than his phone was ringing. Merle. "Hey brother."

"Hey yourself little brother, anythin' interestin' happen this weekend?"

"Not that I remember."

"Doncha be playin' them games with me, I'm your big brother ya gotta tell me everythin'. Besides if I don't find out everythin' Karen's gonna make me sleep on the couch tonight." And then he started in with that Merle laugh and Daryl just snickered and shook his head.

"Well I wouldn't wanna be responsible for breakin' up your happy home. Tell Karen that this may be the only time what she read an saw on the Internet is true."

"Well YeeHaw an Shit Howdy! I'ma tell her right now. Let's all have us a beer tonight an celebrate. Whaddya say?"

"Sure. See y'all about six."

As soon as he pushed the "off" button his phone started ringing again. He looked at the caller idea and went with it, not even giving her a chance to speak, "Yeah it's true Michonne it ain't photoshop. Y'all c'mon over an we'll have a drink in the courtyard bout six."

Then it dawned on him, he hadn't even asked Beth. He texted her and she texted back, "In the tub, yes, sure. xo"

He took his shower, put on fresh work clothes and was off to his studio to get serious about the big commission job, but he did stop in the office to see Tara first. Before she could get a word out he told her, "Yeah it's true. An no, I ain't givin' details. You're gonna have ta talk ta Beth. An tonight in the courtyard we're all havin' a drink. Let Denise know, k? Now I gotta go earn my keep."

He felt like his creative energy had been renewed, and he was excited about this thing he was building with Beth. But he also had a new sense of calmness. This was good, they were good together.

He began tackling his commission job head on.

* * *

She called Maggie as soon as she got out of the tub. "You're in so much trouble you're lucky to have Joey, otherwise I might disown you forever."

And that darn Maggie just laughed, "Well you brought it on yourself. You should have told me all about this thing with him before it hit the Internet, maybe then I wouldn't have had to call Mama. You can't just come over here one night and cry on my shoulder, drink my wine and make me feel bad because you thought the idiot had a girlfriend. You have to share the juicy goodness too. Otherwise I have to pay you back. Now share that juicy goodness."

"Daryl is not an idiot. Don't say that Maggie. It was a misunderstanding. And as far as the juicy goodness goes all I'm going to say is the relationship has moved quickly and I haven't had time to catch my own breath. So there."

"Joey and I will be over in an hour. I know you'll invite me in if I have him with me."

Maggie could be so pushy but she really was Beth's best friend and she was looking forward to sharing with her sister. Not everything, but a lot of things.

* * *

She wasn't in the courtyard and that surprised him. It was a gorgeous day and she'd said if she wasn't busy in the shop she'd be outside. As long as he got to have the usual late morning coffee with her he really didn't care.

He had a cup in each hand as he pushed her shop door open with his knee. A woman immediately said, "Daryl Dixon I'd know you anywhere, I've seen your picture all over the Internet!"

She was a pretty with a big friendly smile and a cute little boy on her hip. "Yeah nice ta see ya, that's right I'm Daryl, do I know ya?"

"Well Daryl I happen to be Beth's superior sister Maggie and this is my sidekick, Joey."

She was every bit the character Beth had said she was, and just as he was having that thought Beth came in from her living quarters. "Hi Daryl, is Maggie harassing you? She has a way of getting on people's nerves, especially mine."

"I ain't gettin' in on this one ladies. Beth I brought ya coffee. I'm sorry Maggie I didn't know you was here. You can have mine, I ain't touched it."

"Aw Beth was right you are quite the guy. Thanks but I can't drink any more coffee today. Joey gets up early and I'd already had a pot by seven."

"Well I'ma let y'all have your time together. I got a sculpture waitin' on me."

"Speaking of sculptures has Beth spoken to you about my friends and family discount?"

Beth thought she'd die right then but he just laughed softly while shaking his head, "Go have ya a look in the shop an make me an offer." He gave them a backhand wave as he walked out the door.

"I swear Maggie you are the most embarrassing creature on the planet."

"Thank you."

But the sisters got more serious as they sat to talk about Beth's quickly blossoming relationship with the Sculptor. "As happy as I am Maggie I'm scared, it's like it's all too perfect, too good to be true."

As only Maggie could do she totally switched gears, becoming almost philosophical as she took Beth's hand, "Bethie you can't spoil a beautiful gift by concentrating your energy worrying about all the things that could go wrong. Allow yourself to believe you and Daryl deserve this."

"You're right Maggie, I'm not going to let anything spoil this projecting."

* * *

He was at her door just before six, holding two bottles of wine in a carrier. His hand went to her hair as he drew her in for a soft kiss. "I's thinkin', if ya could get away this weekend maybe we could go ta the cabin, spend time there. We could leave there late Sunday mornin' in plenty a time ta get ta your folk's place for Sunday dinner."

"Oh my gosh that sounds just right Daryl. After the weekend we've had I think it's what we need, time alone." And now he smiled and wrapped her in a tight hug, "Thanks Darlin' I's hopin' you'd see it that way."

They got just what they expected from the group gathered in the courtyard, plenty of good natured teasing about being all over the Internet, just like a couple of movie stars. Even Denise teased Daryl, "Gee is the paparazzi going to start following you two around?"

But mostly everyone was just happy for the love and happy with the feeling their small group was now complete.

Merle quietly commented to his brother, "I's hopin' ya was gonna be proud brother an not worryin' bout the world knowin'. Ya deserved this an I'm glad ya got it."

xxxxx

They left as soon as they could on Friday afternoon, opting to take the SUV rather than the motorcycle. It wasn't just the cooler of food they'd packed. He teased her, "Can ya just see us pullin' up on the bike for this first meet? Your Daddy'd have my ass shot before I ever got off the damn thing."

"Stop it Daryl, Daddy's a peace loving man."

"Yeah well he's still your Daddy an he knows I touched your butt. Thank God he don't know for sure about all the other stuff I touched."

"You are so bad Mister Dixon, is that the kind of thing I'm going to have to listen to all weekend?"

"Nah Darlin' I hadn't exactly planned on makin' ya listen about it, I's hopin' you'd wanna participate in some of it."

She couldn't help herself he always managed to get a laugh from her.

They arrived just as the last light of day was fading. The night was supposed to be chilly and the first thing he did was build a small fire in the stove, the only source of heat for the little cabin. She stayed busy putting the food and the few clothes they'd brought away.

She'd been leaning down, putting the cream for their coffee and a carton of eggs in the fridge. Her back was to him as she stood and he moved in close, his arms wrapping around her. They were silent as he nuzzled his face into her loose curls and slowly his hand moved to her hair, gently taking hold of it and pulling it aside. He began licking and sucking at the delicate skin of her neck and ear, and the only sounds in the small cabin were the cracking of the logs in the fire, and the low moans coming from her.

He knew her body well enough to know her breasts were hypersensitive and she enjoyed his touches there. He slid his free hand under the thin sweater she wore, while continuing his attentions to her neck and ear. He gently caressed her breast before lightly pinching and teasing her already taut nipple, while her soft sounds of pleasure encouraged him.

Before she knew quite what had happened her sweater and bra had been tossed on a chair and he was whispering in her ear, "Ya ain't properly dressed ta be standin' out here in the cool air, we better get ya in bed an covered up."

She responded only with an "mmm," as she leaned her body closer into his. He reached his hands further down undoing the button on her jeans and lowering the zipper, wasting no time removing them and her panties, "Let's get ya ta that bed an see if I can't warm ya up."

He slipped in next to her and she smiled, "I'd love to share your body heat." The lovemaking was intense but also relaxed in this quiet cabin that seemed so far removed from everyday life.

They lay quietly afterwards as he held her close to him, lightly running his fingertips up and down her neck and arm and kissing her forehead, her lips and even her nose. She whispered, "I've been wanting to lay with you in this feather bed ever since the first time I saw it."

"Ya shoulda told me Darlin' ya know I always wanna make ya happy." She almost giggled, but he muffled that with a deep kiss.

When his stomach growled loudly they both laughed, "Ya made me work up a helluva appetite, I better feed us."

xxxxx

As much as they hated to leave he sure didn't want to be late getting to the farm for Sunday dinner. He didn't just need to pass muster with her folks, he wanted to. He planned to have her in his life forever and they were her people, a part of her. That made them and their approval important to him.

He saw the front curtain separate slightly as they pulled up to the big farmhouse, and soon her Daddy and Mama, plus her sister, the little fella and another man Daryl assumed was Maggie's husband, were all on the porch.

His stomach felt like one big flaming knot of anxiety. Sure he'd been stuck in all kinds of social situations in recent years, but these people were Beth's family and he was feeling the pressure of that.

He nodded his head to her Mama while he shook her Daddy's hand, "Thanks for invitin' me Miz Greene, Mr. Greene, Beth here has bragged on ya both an I been lookin' forward ta meetin' ya."

Maggie introduced him to Glenn and as they shook hands Glenn whispered, "Welcome to life in1890's America." Daryl wasn't sure what that meant until he walked in the old farmhouse. It was a throwback to a different era and he loved it. The old wood plank floors, the heavy oak and mahogany furnishings, and the lace curtains, tablecloth and doilies. Glenn was right. "Ya got a real nice place here, lots of great old wood. I can tell ya take proper care of it too, that ya appreciate it's beauty."

Mama was officially won over. Daddy well he had to give him the business, at least a little, "Don't they have barbers down there in Savannah?"

Daryl smirked at the older man, "They do Sir, maybe sometime I oughta pay a call on one of 'em."

He didn't get flustered and that made Daddy smile, "Alright then. I hope y'all are hungry because I sure am." That's when Daryl saw even more clearly what Glenn meant, this really was a throwback to a different era. As the men sat down at the table waiting to be served, the women went to the kitchen to bring the food. Daryl had never seen anything like it. Glenn must have noticed the look on his face as again he whispered, "Maggie would kill me if I acted like this at home but it's the way they do it here."

He did think the prayer was nice, as far as he knew no one in his family had ever said a prayer out loud. And the meal was right up his alley, simple country fare and lots of it. Even her Daddy giving him the third degree about his work, the business in general and how in the world a man could make a living carving wood, he was charmed by all of it. He understood her Daddy was just looking out for her. He reckoned if he had a daughter he'd be worse. And he was pleased that everyone seemed to be okay having him there.

He was especially happy that Beth didn't hold back. She openly took his hand in front of them, and she'd insisted on sitting next to him at the dinner table. It felt like this had made it official with her family, they were together.

xxxxx

On their way back to Savannah they chatted about their weekend and how romantic and relaxing it had been at the cabin. They agreed if they could figure a way to spend every weekend there they would.

They'd been out of cell phone range since Friday when they'd first started getting close to the cabin, so they'd just turned their phones off. They didn't bother turning them back on until they'd walked into his living room. She had a few texts but he had so many he didn't think he could read them all, so he just looked at the first one, from Michonne and the one from Merle. Michonne's simply said, "ASAP get on the Page Six site, unbelievable."

He hurried to turn on the laptop and went right to Page Six. There was the huge headline reading: "Scandal Rocks the Art World," beneath it was Paula's picture.

xxxxxxxxxxx

 **A/N Thanks so much for reading along. I wonder what Paula is up to now?! Please leave a comment / review x gneebee**

 **The chapter photo is posted on my tumblr bethylmethbrick please check it out. I'd also appreciate if you'd check out some of my other stories. I'll see you next Thursday for more of The Wood Sculptor. As always, I love ya large! xo gneebee**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N Thank you all so much. I know many of you were more than a little bit mad at me for the cliffhanger. I did love the guesses you sent, so much so I may use some of them in other stories! One reader sent me her theory via private tumblr message and she hit the nail almost square on the head, excellent detective work ckgckg! Here we go**.

xxxxxxxx

He hadn't gotten two sentences passed the headline when his phone was ringing, the caller I.D. said Ronald St. Amour. "Hey Ronald."

The man at the other end of the line sounded angry, "Did you know about this Dixon? Were you aware of what was going on?"

"I got no idea what you're talkin' about Ronald. I just walked in the door, been gone all weekend an outta cell service. What the hell's goin' on?" Beth immediately noticed the change in Daryl's demeanor and tone.

"Your former girlfriend has been swindling the art community for years, that's what's going on!"

"Hold up a minute, I get that sumthin's got ya all pissed off but whatever it is ain't got nuthin' ta do with me. Paula was never my girlfriend, it never was that an ya know it. When I seen her last weekend at your place, that was the first time in three years. So take a breath an show me some damn respect. Now what the fuck happened?"

And Ronald gave him an earful. It was still all just "alleged" but Daryl didn't have a bit of trouble believing it was the truth. That was interesting since it was a scenario he'd never even thought of with her, but it wasn't new. During his years in the art world he'd heard a few stories of "artists" pulling the same scam.

Everyone knew Daryl wasn't the only artist Paula had ever tried to, or had, hooked up with. There'd been one in particular not long after he was out of the picture. A very well known abstract impressionist named Philip Blake. He had a big following in the Northeastern U.S., the San Francisco Bay Area, Los Angeles and Western Europe. Blake had fallen for Paula hard, he'd wined her, dined her and gotten her all the best introductions. He'd made it his business to make sure she achieved the level of success she desired. The truth was, if she was going to be on his arm he wanted her successful. He didn't associate with those on "the fringe."

The problem was she was only using him but Phillip Blake had fallen in love. When she dumped him his heart was broken, or maybe it was just that his ego was shattered, either way as soon as he began to recover he began to question a few things. Like the fact she had a seemingly endless supply of top quality work and yet he couldn't remember her ever working. Maybe if he hadn't been blinded by his desire for her he'd have questioned that a lot sooner. And there was no denying the woman had style in her clothing and in the way she presented herself, and she was definitely a master of self-promotion. But the more he thought about it the more he thought she'd never really displayed much artistic flair.

He'd clandestinely began an investigation on his own but as he'd gathered more and more evidence he'd hired a private investigator. Philip Blake had enormous arrogance and an unhealthy thirst for revenge. When he knew the truth he knew he wasn't going to let her get away with using him to further her scam. She was going to pay one way or another. The best way he could think of was public humiliation.

At the core he and Paula were not really such different people.

"Well if Paula wasn't doin' the sculptures who the hell was?"

"That's the real nasty part of this story. She had some poor Mexican National down in Zinacantepec doing all the actual sculpting, the guy was working his ass off for her. Of course she was paying him somewhere south of nothing for all that work, while she was claiming it as hers and selling it for a small fortune."

"I don't have to tell you Daryl, the art world has been shaken to its core by this news. Real artists are the most pissed off because now the legitimacy of everyone's work is going to come into question. And it's just the kind of juicy scandal that even people who couldn't care less about art want to hear about, they want to know all salacious gossip surrounding the story. Phillip must be in heaven right now. There's nothing that man enjoys more than ruining the life of a perceived enemy, and it appears Paula has become his prime target."

"Yeah but do we know it's true? I mean shit Ronald, that's a helluva accusation they're makin'. And Phillip Blake has always seemed like a real slimy guy ta me. Ya feel sure about all this?"

"Well I hear the evidence is strong and if it's all true then of course she's ruined. She might just be okay in terms of personal lawsuits though. Art investors hate to come forward and admit they've been taken. Shit my own wife has a storage locker full of Paula's works. She thought she was going to make a killing on it."

"Well hell I'd hang on ta that. Maybe this fella down in Mexico will become the next big thing in metal sculptin'. It might be that now he finally makes the money an gets the recognition he's got comin'. But I'ma tell ya right now Ronald, I don't appreciate ya callin' me an accusin' me a knowin' some heavy shit like that, an worse just keepin' it ta myself. I thought we had a little more respect between us than that. I don't care for havin' my honesty questioned."

"You're right and I apologize. I was angry but I know that's no excuse. And while I'm at it, I also want to apologize about last weekend and the manner in which Beth was treated by Beverly and her so called friends. Bev and I had on hell of a hell of a squabble over all that. I'm certain it will never happen again, and I hope you and Beth can both forgive us."

"I'll tell ya Ronald, when I found out what them women were up to, an later when I seen it first hand, I kept it together. I didn't start no trouble cuz it was your house an your party. But just so ya know, I won't be polite if it ever happens again. That's a promise. I got no quarrel with ya Ronald, but you an Beverly are a package deal an right now I ain't one bit happy with her. She might wanna write Beth a nice note."

"I'm sure she's already planned on it, why I'd bet Beth hears from her this week." Ronald would make sure of it.

* * *

Beth had been standing there listening to his side of the conversation and dying to know the whole story. The minute he hung up she asked him.

"This is one big nasty story Darlin' an I'll tell ya everythin' I know. Lemme just pour us a glass a wine an we can go sit in the readin' area. I might wanna look up a couple a things in my art journals."

He told her what he knew as they sipped the wine. "I just can't believe all this Daryl, I guess I wasn't even aware this stuff happens. I mean of course I know classic art is often forged, but I hadn't heard of having some poor patsy do the art while the fake takes all the credit, and most of the money."

"Yeah well art is a business that's had more'n it's share a forgers, fakers an thieves. An I s'pose there's more'n one kinda thief. Paula stole someone's talent an she committed fraud against buyers. I suspect she's gonna be in a world a hurt with the law an she'll be ostracized by the art world forever. My hope is this poor fella whose really been creatin' these sculptures finally gets his due, in recognition an money."

"See Daryl, you're a good person."

"pfft. It's just I believe in fairness is all."

"Yep, because you're a good person."

They glanced through some of his periodicals, searching stories about recent fraud and also the showings where Paula had been featured. They even read the accolades she'd received, still shaking their heads in disbelief.

"Shit, I forgot ta tell ya Ronald apologized for Beverly, said they were both real sorry."

"I guessed that's what you were talking about when you told Ronald to 'have her send Beth a note.'"

"Well ya know…"

"Yeah, I know." She smiled at him and reached for his hand.

"Damn girl, this was a heavy day. Whaddya say we hit that bed an see if we can't ease each-others mind."

"Is that what they're calling it now?"

"Well that an fun, for tonight let's call it fun. Who doesn't wanna have a little fun?"

And he did it again, made her laugh when she hadn't really expected him to be in a playful mood. She had no complaints, none at all.

 **One Month Later**

Paula had been charged with fraud and between the prosecutor and her defense attorney they were questioning everyone in the art world who had ever had a business or personal relationship with her. Daryl was no exception.

He told both attorneys the same thing, the truth. They'd been friends and attended lots of art openings and parties together, until three years ago when he began to feel used and they'd parted company. Neither attorney seemed to think he could bring much to their case, but both retained the right to call him if needed. He just hoped like hell it wouldn't be needed.

xxxxx

It was a few days later and Daryl was surprised to receive a call from Neal Covert. Although he emailed once a week, the man never called. All of his emails were just of the polite "checking in" type, and Daryl never felt pressured by those emails. But it was very unusual for him to call.

Covert asked him if any of the sculptures he'd commissioned were completed, "Yeah I got one done an another damn near."

"That's wonderful news. Hopefully you'll be able to complete the second one within the next two weeks. I'd like very much for you to come to London at that time and bring what you have. I know it's a lot to ask of you, but I can send a jet and I wouldn't expect you to remain longer than the weekend. I'll put you up at my hotel in Covent Garden, where I'd also ask that you give me your recommendations on how that first piece would be best displayed. I will of course always acquiesce to the opinion of the artist himself."

He didn't want to go to London several reasons, mostly he didn't want to leave Beth. But there was no way he felt comfortable saying "no" to this man. Daryl knew Covert had put a lot of trust in him when he'd given him this commission, and he'd been a pleasure to work with and for. All he'd asked for was perfection and Daryl understood that, it was what he wanted too. "Yeah sure ya just tell me when and where ta get on that plane. I'm feelin' pretty good bout bein' able ta get that second one done by then, I'm real close."

"That's terrific news. My wife and I are very anxious Daryl, very anxious."

Now he just had to break the news to Beth, not that he was concerned she'd be angry. But they'd been spending most of their weekends at the cabin and they both loved those getaways so much, he hated the idea of disappointing her.

* * *

They'd planned to have dinner at his place that evening so he wrapped things up a little early in the studio. He wasn't feeling overly concerned about his production schedule, he was sure he'd have the second sculpture completed and would have started on the third before he was due to leave for London.

He had a routine when he completed his studio work. First he very meticulously cleaned and cared for his tools, then he cleaned his work area. When the cleanup was done to his satisfaction he returned the photo he been working with to the manila folder on his drafting table, hung up his apron and locked the door behind him.

He showered and dressed quickly for his dinner with Beth. He scrubbed a couple of baking potatoes and put them in the oven, before heading to her place so he could walk her back.

When she opened her door he bent to kiss her, "Ya look nice an ya smell real good too."

"You smell pretty darn nice yourself and I have no complaints at all about the way look."

He shook his head and muttered, "Quit," as he took the salad bowl from her hands.

Back at his place he set the salad in the fridge and turned the grill on to heat, before pouring them each a glass of wine. "Ya have a good day today Darlin'?"

"I did thank you. I heard again from the gallery in Atlanta, she'd like two more paintings and she's driving down next week to pick them up. I can hardly believe how wonderfully everything is going with my career Daryl."

"Well I can, it's cuz you're real talented an people get it."

"You helped so much. As painful as parts of that party were it got me so many great introductions."

* * *

He'd grilled the chops and they'd just sat down at the table when she told him her news. "I got a call today from a booking agent for The Armory Show in New York, they want me to exhibit. They offered me a 'booth' at no charge and they're even comping me the airfare and hotel. It's going to be held the weekend after next, would you come with me?"

"Damn Beth that's awesome for ya, that's a big show an it'd be real good exposure for ya, an hell practically free. Ya gotta do it, well ya don't gotta but it'd be great. But shit I can't go. I's gonna tell ya after dinner, I got a call from Neal Covert an he wants me ta come ta London that weekend an bring what I got done on his job. Dammit I'm sorry Beth, ya know I'd take ya otherwise."

She was disappointed but she got it, she understood the career importance of the job he was doing. "It's alright, I'm a little disappointed but I understand completely. Our timing is just off for this."

He took her hand, "Let's take this Friday off, I can ask Tara ta keep an eye on both shops. We'll leave early in the mornin', or maybe even Thursday night if ya want, we'll take a long weekend for ourselves at the cabin. That won't make up for bein' separated the weekend after, but it'll help. Whaddya think? Can ya make it work?"

"You bet I'll make it work, that sounds wonderful. Are you going to take me tracking again? I think I'm getting pretty good at that stuff."

"You bet your pretty little butt I'll take ya trackin', we'll have some fun Beth I promise."

"I can't wait." She paused a minute, not even sure why the thought had suddenly come to her, maybe the idea had been there silently in the back of her mind, waiting under the surface all this time. "Daryl will you show me your studio now? Are you and I close enough yet?"

"Aw shit I never even think about that, a course we're close enough. I love ya, I trust ya, and yeah sure." He stood and she took his hand, relieved he was finally willing to show her the place she knew to him was almost sacred.

When he opened the heavy wood door the first thing that struck her was the smell. It was almost intoxicating. There was a cleanness, a purity to the smell of the different woods lightly mingling with the fragrance of the oils he used. She noticed too that unlike the rooms in his home, his studio had concrete floors. The push broom and large can of wood shavings in the corner told her why.

There was an old wooden office desk, a drafting table, and a set of three, four drawer-high, ancient wood filing cabinets.

His smaller tools were all neatly hung on a wall, with the large ones carefully placed on a long bench below. The center of the room held a large work-height table she assumed was where he did his actual sculpting. There were anti-fatigue mats placed on the floor around it and she thought those were probably a necessity. She could imagine standing on that concrete all day would be hard on a person. There was also a comfortable looking stool next to the big table. She guessed it was easier to sit when doing fine detail work.

It was had to put it in words, it had such a peaceful feeling and a kind of old world charm. "It's all so beautiful and beautifully organized."

Just as her words were out they heard his phone ringing from the other room. "I better get it, might be important I can't imagine who might be callin' this time a the day. Sorry."

"Go ahead," she smiled. She went over to the drafting table and sat on the stool there, continuing to look around the room. There was a small refreshment area in one corner that included a bar sized refrigerator, coffee maker and microwave.

She looked down at the drafting table and without even thinking about what she was doing, she flipped open the thin cover of the manila folder. She heard her own gasp. The subject of the 8 x 10 black and white photo was a woman. A strikingly beautiful, dark haired and completely naked woman, except for the stiletto heels she wore.

She knew she shouldn't, it was so, so wrong, but she did it anyway. She looked through the rest of the small stack of photos. They were all of the same beautiful and naked woman, only her poses changed.

She had one of the photos in her hand, staring at it with her mouth hanging open when he walked back in the room. "Ah fuck."

He quickly went over to her and took the photo, placing it back in the folder. It was clear he wasn't happy. "I didn't think ta tell ya not ta go through my stuff. I guess I thought ya would never do sumthin' like that."

"Wait just a minute, you mean I'm the one who's wrong because I found pictures of some naked woman in your studio? Really? Is that where you're going with this?"

"Yeah that's right where I'm goin' with this. Dammit this is my work. I don't come snoopin' round your studio lookin' in your stuff."

"Your work? Looking at naked pictures of some woman is your work?"

"Yeah it is. This here is my big commission job for Neal Covert. She's his wife an it seems they're both pretty damn proud of her body, especially her breasts. I'm doin' six sculptures a those breasts in various poses. Any other questions?"

She couldn't help it, now she was kind of fascinated, "Just her breasts?"

"Well a course not, her torso, hips ta chin an like I said various poses."

"And he's going to display these in his hotels for the world to see?"

"Like I said, they're proud." He couldn't help it, he started laughing. He'd had all the same thoughts he knew she was having when he'd gotten the job.

"And this is who you're going to hang out with while I'm in New York?"

"Seriously Beth? You're askin' me sumthin' like that? Yeah I'ma hang out with this guy an his wife, we're goin' drinkin' in some pub an she'll be naked. Is that what you're thinkin'?"

He was back to being angry and now she was laughing. "It was exactly how I was imagining it."

They both laughed then, but he was still not happy, "I can't help it Beth, I mean I know ya didn't mean it that way, but I just feel like I's gone for five minutes an you was goin' through my stuff."

"I know you're mad but it wasn't like that, I wasn't going through your stuff Daryl. I mean that folder was right there in plain sight and I just absentmindedly lifted the cover, and wow there she was. Some naked goddess in my boyfriend's studio. And I'm a little angry myself, I feel like since I'm supposed to be your girlfriend you would have told me about all this."

"Yeah well I's gonna before the sculptures went on display an all, I's just waitin' for the right time. I mean it's not every day a guy tells his woman, 'Hey there Darlin' guess what I do all day? Yeah that's right, I look at naked pictures a other woman an make sculptures a their titties."

"That would give a gal something to consider Daryl. But I think I'm almost mature enough to handle it. Almost. I'm not sure why I feel jealous, but I kind of do."

"Well I guess I wouldn't care too much for ya painting naked men but ya know how art is, there's lotsa nudity. Hell ya had ta have seen plenty of it. People like naked bodies, it's one a them facts a life. This ain't my usual deal at all but it was just too good an opportunity to turn down."

"C'mon, let's go back in the other room. We'll do this all some other time." She could tell he was still unhappy and she wasn't going to push him, but what she really wanted to see was that sculpture he'd completed.

He walked in the kitchen, pulled a bottle of beer out of the refrigerator and seemed to just pour it down this throat. He set the bottle on the counter and said, "Sorry, I shoulda asked, ya want sumthin'?"

"I'm fine."

He still seemed out of sorts when he looked her in the eyes, "Will ya stay tonight? We ain't gotta ya know, we can just lay there an be pissed off at each other."

"Gosh how could I turn down a swell invitation like that?"

* * *

The air in the room felt heavy as they lay side by side, both of them quiet, both knowing they wouldn't sleep. He'd calmed down and started to think he overreacted. It was a casual and absentminded thing she'd done, lifting the cover of the folder. But it had caught him by surprise when he'd seen her holding the photo. He didn't really believe she'd been snooping around, he knew her better than that. She wasn't nosey and he'd never experienced the feeling that she was invading his space. He reckoned his reaction was more about his own guilt. He'd been feeling for a while that he ought to be more open with her about a lot of things, including this job. He'd had a lot of his own strong feelings about it, some real struggles with it, but in the end he'd chosen to do it for very specific reasons.

He tentatively reached his hand across the bed and took ahold of her hand, "I'm sorry," he began, and then went on to tell her everything he'd been thinking and feeling.

She didn't say anything in response, but when he was done speaking she let go of his hand and rolled over almost completely on top of him. His own instinct took control and he wrapped his arms around her waist as she put her small hands in his hair, "I understand and I'm sorry too. I don't like it when we argue Daryl, and I never want you to think you can't trust me."

"That's just it, I do trust ya Beth. Wouldn't a told ya all that if I didn't."

When he'd spoken those words she was overcome with her own feelings, and she surprised him in a most pleasant and unexpected way when she began kissing him with uninhibited desire. He was as caught up in the feeling as she and soon his hands had gone to her hair as he drew her even closer, while her hand slid lightly across his chest and and arms. She began moving her mouth along his ear, neck and shoulders, leaving tender kisses and teasing the skin with her tongue, as both were rapidly becoming more and more aroused.

Soon he rolled them both over so that now he was nearly atop her and his hand and then his lips were on her breasts. Their soft moans of pleasure grew more intense when his hand slipped between her legs, and first one and then another of his fingers slid into the wetness there, while he continued his sucking and teasing of her breast with his lips and tongue. Soon he felt her body began to tense and then release that tension fully as she called out his name in a throaty whisper. Hearing her say his name as her pleasure peaked increased his hunger for her, and he could wait no longer. He slowly entered her but within moments his movements had become more and more forceful and she found that her own movements were every bit as intense as his. They indulged fully in, and they fully enjoyed each-others bodies.

When she came again he thrust into her even more powerfully, and now he called her name softly over and over as he reached his own orgasm.

They were wordless for a few moments, just holding onto each other and trying to catch their breath, then he pulled her closer and whispered, "Next time let's not do the part where we fight first, let's just go right ta the makin' up part, k?"

"Perfect."

xxxxxx

 **A/N There's nothing quite as nice as making up, is there now? I hope you enjoyed this chapter and that all is forgiven. I appreciate you taking the time to read along and would love to read your comments / reviews. x gneebee**

 **The chapter photo of the painter and the sculptor is posted on my tumblr bethylmethbrick and I hope you'll have a look. In other news, Monday I'll be posting a bonus Christmas chapter for Love's Highway, please check it out. . I hope to see you all back here next Thursday for more of _The Wood Sculptor_. Thank you so much and always remember, I love ya large! xo gneebee**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N Thank you all so much for reading this story. I've appreciated reading your reviews and comments, even when you were a little upset with me, and I always appreciate the follows and favorites. I've enjoyed writing this story for you :) This chapter concludes our adventures with the Painter and Wood Sculptor. I hope it wraps up just right for you! x**

oo00oo

Things between them had smoothed over quite a bit, at least he thought they were mostly back on track. But he knew they still needed to sort through some things and he was hoping this long weekend together would be the time they'd really solidify what they had between them. What they were to each other. The love was there, the chemistry was there, neither of those things was the problem. It was the drama.

He felt like he knew what needed to happen to make that drama go away. They had to be more open with each other, and by "they" he knew it was mostly him. He had to quit letting what happened with Paula weigh on his relationship with Beth. He was letting the mistrust he'd felt then filter in now. The incident in his studio was the perfect example. He knew he'd blown things way out of proportion. He should have just told her the truth, that he wished she hadn't lifted that file cover. Then again, what he really should have done was tell her about the job, what it was about, what his feelings were and why he'd agreed to do it, long before she ever saw those photos. She'd been right when she said that if she was indeed his girlfriend he should be talking to her about things. He still needed to do that and he knew it.

As difficult as it was for him, against his nature really, he wanted them to talk about feelings and maybe they even needed to think about making plans, including working toward a shared goal.

oo00oo

Rather than the Bike they'd be taking the SUV for their long weekend. The motorcycle just wasn't an efficient way to transport a couple of coolers packed with three or four days' supply of food and beverages. And by 4:30 Thursday afternoon he had the rig packed up and they were ready to head to the cabin. "Ya ready Beth?"

"I'm so ready Daryl, I've been looking forward to this all week." It always seemed easier for them to talk, to get closer, when they were at the cabin. There weren't all the distractions of work and all the people and electronics. It was just about them and about them being together.

"I been lookin' forward to it too Beth. I think it's gonna be the start a sumthin' special for us. I don't even know why I think it, it's a feelin' I got."

"Well that sounds promising."

* * *

They enjoyed the drive and the idle conversation, just leaving the city behind and being together bolstered their spirits. And they made great time, arriving just before seven. Daryl had everything out of the rig, they'd put everything in its place and he was building the fire by 7:30.

When he had it going he asked, "Wine, beer, sweet tea, what? What can I fix ya ta drink Beth?"

"Well I'm guessing you'd like a beer and I'm onboard with that." She got the tray of cheeses she'd prepared and a box of crackers, and set them on the little table between the overstuffed chairs. He tipped his bottle towards her and she tipped hers back, "Cheers Darlin'."

He took a swallow then he started to tell her. "Ya know I had so many thoughts goin' through my head when Covert offered me the commission job. I wish we'd a been in each other's lives more then, like we are now. There's a lot I would have talked ta ya about, I wanna talk ta ya about all that now."

"Alright I'd love to listen."

"The kind of sculptures Covert wanted me ta create sure ain't my usual, ya know that about me. I ain't got nuthin' against nude art, beautiful art is beautiful art. It just ain't my callin', an there's plenty a other sculptors that's what they do. I couldn't figure out why the guy come ta me. Andrea said it was cuz he'd bought one a my pieces at a gallery in Germany an he liked my detail work. That didn't seem like enough ta me, but I guess it was for him."

"So I's feelin' anxiety about it, I wasn't sure I's comfortable with it, but I knew I had ta step outside myself some. I thought if I could just complete one a the sculptures to my satisfaction, ta my standards, the whole job would fall into place for me. I felt pretty sure if I could wrap my head round the idea I could do it, an do it right."

"I got determined, I wanted it for a lotta reasons. I wanted...nah I didn't just want, I needed ta prove sumthin' ta myself; that I had enough talent I could do sumthin' that wasn't even close ta bein' in my comfort zone, and create sumthin' wonderful. Beth the truth is I've had a lotta doubt about myself, everythin' about myself, ever since I's little."

"When I's growin' up I got told on the regular what a loser I was, that I's a worthless piece a shit. Even now, no matter how good I done with my work, an how much folks liked it an how much I sold, I guess I never did get over those words. I felt like maybe if I could succeed at sumthin' so different I'd prove ta myself them things I was told weren't true."

"The other side a all this is the money, I can't ignore that part. I make real good money, real good, it ain't that I'm greedy. But I knew if I's successful with this it would bring me some real financial freedom. I'd be able ta have an do things I never thought I could. Not cuz I wanna buy a lotta stuff, but cuz I'd be free ta do my art my way, financial freedom would mean my creative freedom. I wanna spend my time here, in the woods, away from the city. Build a studio an do what's in my heart Beth. Does any a this make a bit a sense?"

"It makes a lot of sense Daryl and I envy you this opportunity. I understand what you're saying and I'm so glad you shared this with me. I was shocked when I saw the photos, but I don't really see a problem at all with the subject matter. I also get your hesitation, painting nudes certainly wouldn't be in my comfort zone either. I admire you for stretching your boundaries this way."

"It hurts me to think that your self-confidence was undermined the way it was. You're so talented but more important than that Daryl, you're such a good person. A little hot tempered sometimes, but the more I understand about you the more I get that too."

"I still feel bad about lifting the cover on the file, even though it was innocent, but I think it's turned out good because now we're talking about things. So since we are, tell me more about this plan for leaving Savannah."

His expression was so serious, and he was chewing on that lip like he did when he was thinking hard and searching for his words. "It ain't really that I wanna just up an leave Savannah for good. I got my family there, Merle an Karen. An I got Tara an Denise, Rick an Michonne an the kids. An I love my place there. I done it mostly myself the way I wanted ta do it, so yeah, I don't know that I could just walk away for good."

"But I could be gone a lot an when I wanted ta be. I know Tara loves runnin' the gallery an she's great at it, much better than I could ever be, so I'm lucky. I don't gotta worry about it. An my place is good, it'll keep just fine without me. But I want sumthin' else too."

"I always thought someday I'd make this little cabin my permanent home. Build a big studio an work here, doin' the things I feel I want ta do, ya know when it comes ta my sculpting. Not just jobs other people want, or feelin' the pressure ta create the art that will sell the most. An when I hit a mental block, well there just ain't nuthin' better than a walk in the woods ta clear my mind. So yeah, that's what I been dreamin' of for a long time now."

"Thing is though, that was when it was just me. I like ta think things are different now, that you an me we got sumthin', that we're goin' somewhere together. I hope it ain't gonna end. So now I'm confused cuz I don't know what ya want. What you're thinkin'."

"Oh." Now it was her turn, she was on the spot. There was a lot she wanted to tell him, a lot she wanted to say to him. There was even more she wanted to ask him. The question was could she be as open and honest as he was being?

"I think we have the same feelings Daryl. Not just for each other, I know I love you and I hope you feel that. I don't want it to end either, I do want to build a life, a future with you. I guess I'm just not sure exactly what you're asking me."

He took a deep breath and nodded his head, "Ya think ya could live out like this? Not just visit for a couple a days a fun an rest, but live here away from town an people?"

"Daryl you saw where I grew up. I know what country living is about, maybe not mountain living, but I know what it's like to live somewhere pretty remote. Would I want to live like that again? Yes I would. But I wouldn't want to give up my career, my painting. I'm not a well-established artist like you, and after this job you're going to be a huge deal. I'm just starting to get traction."

"I know that, I get it. I'd never think a askin' ya ta just walk away. I know I can be a real dick but I ain't that kinda dick. Anyway, it ain't gonna happen tomorrow, there's things that gotta be done first. But if I'ma start building the shop, an I think I'd do that first, I need ta know sumthin' Beth, I need ta have an idea about what ta do."

"Alright what? What do you need to know?"

"Am I building a studio for one artist or two?"

As much as she loved this man, and as much as she thought that was exactly the question she wanted to be asked, she just didn't know if she was quite ready to make such a huge commitment. Was she really prepared to say yes, to plan on becoming a reclusive artist with him. "I love you Daryl, you know that, I just don't know what to say. Can you let me think about it? Can we talk about it again after we get back from our trips?"

She could see it on his face, it was clear, and then that wall went up and it was like he became expressionless. Just those hard steely eyes looking into hers, and the tone of his voice was flat, cold, "Yeah sure. Just let me know."

"Daryl please…"

"I ain't mad Beth, I get it, I do. I just need some fresh air. I'ma go for a little walk, I won't be gone long."

"You're going walking in the woods in the dark?"

"Yeah I am, I know what I'm doin' I'll be fine an you'll be fine here."

He picked up the bow and he was gone.

He hadn't gone 20 yards when he stopped himself, no this wasn't the way to handle it, running off. He reminded himself that he'd just made the decision they needed to be more open, ask the questions, give the answers. Talk. Now she'd said she needed a little time to think and he was running off. Nah, leaving wasn't going to work, ever.

As much as she hated his reaction she understood it. He'd laid it out to her completely. He'd been open, he'd shared with her about the job, about the childhood pain that wouldn't leave, he'd told her he wanted her forever. He was willing to build his studio, his dream, with her in mind. If the situation was reversed she'd be every bit as hurt as he was right now, and she'd probably want to get away from him for a little while. She was so sure he was the love of her life that even she didn't quite understand her reluctance. She just didn't know what was best. That was what she needed to give her thought to, not whether or not she loved him, not whether she wanted what he was offering, because she did.

She felt such relief, mixed with quite a bit of anxiety, when she heard his boots hit the front steps. She stood waiting for whatever was coming next. He walked in, his eyes trained on hers, he put the big bow down by the door, came right to her and took her in his arms, "Sorry I left like that. I won't do it again, no matter what. I love ya, you're right ya should have your chance ta think about things."

They were still locked in the embrace as she spoke, "I'm sorry too. I love you, I do want this to be our life, but I have some reluctance, some fear I don't understand. I need to question myself."

He pulled his head back chewing the lip and nodding his head, "K, that's fair. In the meantime, I think I need another beer."

He sipped on the beer and she sipped a glass of wine, and again he opened up, "I don't think I'ma be able ta relax into just bein' us again 'til I know what you're feelin', what you're thinkin'. That's how it is for me. Bein' real open, that's sumthin' I ain't ever been able ta be, or maybe just ain't been willin' ta be, not until you Beth. So yeah, I want ya, everythin' about ya, but it's hard the not knowin'. I'll wait 'til we come back from our trips, an then I think I'ma need ta know one way or the other."

"I understand, I want it too Daryl. I'm sitting right here with you and I feel like I miss you so much. I look at you and I know how much I love you, how much I want you. I think I'm just torn, following this dream, this art career, it's what I wanted to do forever and I don't want to just walk away from something I feel like I just started."

"Hold up Beth. I ain't ever asked ya ta walk away so don't talk like I did. I asked ya if ya could do it another way. An I didn't ask ya ta do it now. I said it would take time. It'd take two ta three years ta finish my commission, build a studio, build a nice cabin. What I asked ya was, should I build the studio for two artists or one. I never said one artist or acted like I thought your art didn't count, that it wasn't important. Fuck I'm just frustrated now."

She did have a moment of clarity then, "You're right Daryl, I'm so sorry. You've never discounted me or my art. I could never have asked for anyone to be more supportive than you've been." She got up and walked behind his chair, leaning down and wrapping her arms around his neck, holding her cheek next to his, "Just give me until we get back, please."

He reached a hand up and wrapped his fingers around her arm, "Yeah I'ma give ya the time ya need an hope for the best."

They lay in the big feather bed and held each other, and they did yearn for each other in a more intimate way, but no love was made in their bed that night.

xxxxx

Things always look better in the morning and they both made an effort to relax and enjoy the day as best they could. But there was that underlying tension that just wouldn't be denied, and neither seemed to know how to relieve it. They tracked, and Daryl shot a couple of rabbits they'd have for dinner. They talked about art, they talked about the books they'd read and why they loved them. They talked about their childhoods and he was open and honest with her about his. They talked about everything, except the elephant in the room.

He tried to tell himself it didn't matter, he was fine. He'd always done things on his own and he had no problem going back to doing things just the way he always had. Then he mentally gave himself a right hook. Yeah dumbass he thought, you can just walk away. Pfft. But he did try to focus on the fact that what she'd said was she loved him, and that she just wanted time to think. That wasn't so unreasonable, and it wasn't a "no."

And that night in their bed he held her and they did make love. But as wonderful as it was, it felt like something was missing.

xxxxx

It was Thursday evening, the jet was coming into Atlanta and a car had been sent to pick him up. She hadn't expected it to hurt so much to see him go, it was only a few days, he'd be back soon. But she felt like she wanted to jump in the car and beg him to take her with him, instead she just smiled and waved and he did the same.

She was sure it would have been different if they hadn't been feeling that strain on their relationship. He'd kept himself busy all week working on the job, and she'd been busy getting her paintings together for the courier service that would transport them to New York. They hadn't had their usual together time and everything seemed to have a kind of gloom hanging over it.

They may have been in sultry Savannah but there was a chill in the air.

xxxxx

He'd hoped to sleep on the plane, it seemed he'd done so little sleeping the past several nights. He caught a few minutes here and there inflight, but it wasn't restful and it left him feeling more tired, both physically and emotionally.

He was met by a driver and he and the sculptures were taken to the hotel in Covent Garden. It was old, beautifully restored and obviously exclusive. Just the kind of place he would never have been welcome in not so long ago.

The minute he walked in the lobby his artist's eye zeroed right in on the spot he knew the sculpture should go. The biggest part of the reason he'd been summoned was now settled. Maybe he could rest. If only she were here.

It was early in the day and he had time to put his things away, take a long hot shower and crawl into bed for a much needed nap. Thanks to pure exhaustion he finally slept for a couple of hours.

Neal Covert and his wife Claudette arrived in the late afternoon. He was a little taken aback, they were formal in their manner and their appearance. Almost regal. Because of the nature of the job he'd expected them to be more flamboyant.

He was also surprised her sister, Phoebe, had accompanied them. He'd been a little concerned at first, fearing it might be some kind of setup. He was relieved to learn it was just a weekend visit for the sisters, Phoebe's significant other was away on business. She was as stunning as her sister and every bit as regal looking, and he was pleasantly surprised by her outgoing personality and sense of humor.

As they enjoyed high tea in the hotels' tea room, the four of them fell into relaxed conversation about the sculptures and his progress, and of course the intrigue and current gossip in the art world. He immediately felt better about the trip. He'd expected to feel anxious and out of place the entire time, but he found he was at ease and actually enjoying himself. Just one thing was missing.

After tea they went to his suite to view the sculptures. There was a collective gasp from the three as he pulled the cover off the first one. Claudette lightly clapped her hands together while her husband proclaimed, "Brilliant Dixon, perfection." Phoebe squeezed his arm in a friendly manner and teased, "I want to be your next subject if you promise to make me look this perfect."

He was thrilled when the second sculpture was as well received as the first, and he realized he now felt good about the job in whole. He had this down and he was happy he'd taken on the challenge.

They left to "dress for dinner" advising they'd return for him in two hours. As soon as they were gone he tried to call her but it went right to voicemail. With the time difference he assumed she was busy at The Armory Show.

He was wined and dined throughout the long weekend, and he honestly enjoyed it. They were wonderful hosts. But he missed her so much, he wished she was with him or he was with her. Whatever, as long as they were together.

When he got to his room Saturday night, after another big evening of dining and drinking, he was anxious to get out of his suit, have a hot shower and kick back for a while. He powered up his laptop, maybe she'd sent an email, he was hoping for some photos of her booth. He was disappointed there was nothing, but then he thought to check the Page Six site, maybe they'd have something, surely they were covering the show.

What he saw was something he never wanted to see, her and Philip Blake. The headline photo showed Blake enveloping her in a hug, and kissing her right next to the mouth. The only thing that prevented him from coming unglued was the look on her face. She did not seem to be enjoying Blake's attention. Even the header read, "Painter Wants Out of Painters' Clutches." He felt the adrenaline kick in and he wished he was there to kick some abstract impressionist ass.

xxxxx

She was at JFK, waiting for her suitcase at baggage claim when he descended on her. He was one of those people that at first seem understated and quiet, even well-mannered. But somehow they take over a space, suck up all the air. "You must be the lovely Beth Greene, I'm Philip Blake." His smile looked less than sincere to her. Little did she know that would be just the beginning of a very long weekend of Philip Blake invading her space and monopolizing her time.

He seemed to be everywhere she was, and anytime a patron wanted photos he'd drape his arm around her and pull her impossibly close. He was constantly touching her arm, or her low back, and his sexual innuendos disgusted her. She asked him several times to please refrain from touching her, and told him she didn't appreciate that kind of talk. He'd just smile and apologize telling her how he'd "simply forgotten himself," and hadn't meant to make her uncomfortable. She didn't believe anything the man said.

It finally came to a head on Saturday afternoon. An art critic had asked to take her photo standing next to one of her paintings, she'd happily agreed. It would be wonderful publicity. Except seemingly out of nowhere there was Philip Blake and this time when his arm went around her shoulder his other went around her waist, if she hadn't quickly turned her head he would have kissed her mouth and not her cheek.

That was it. "If you touch me in any way even once more I will call security and the police. You're way out of line and I won't put up with it anymore."

It was him and it was a lot of other things but Beth had had it. It was the mayhem of the show, the trying to sell herself to potential buyers, the overall feeling of insincerity that just seemed to prevail. This was not why she'd become an artist. She'd wanted to paint, to express herself in her art. Certainly she'd hoped to sell enough to keep from having to find another source of income. But what she wanted more than anything was to create. She realized now what the Wood Sculptor had known for a long time, this was one of the negatives of being an artist. Like him, she didn't care for it.

As soon as she was out of there and back at the hotel she tried to call him but his phone went right to voicemail. He was probably out with Neal Covert and his wife.

Back when she planned this trip, she thought after the show she'd want to go to dinner and walk around the city. But after the day she'd had all she wanted to do was take a hot bath and relax. She called room service first and ordered a bottle of Riesling and a chopped chicken salad.

She enjoyed a glass of the wine while she soaked in the tub, glad she didn't have to see or talk to one more person. When she was done with her bath she put on the oversized hotel robe, her slippers and sat on the bed with a fresh glass, her salad and her laptop. The only English gossip site she knew of was The Mirror, and she clicked on to see if there would happen to be any photos of him, and there were.

Her heart sank as she looked through the dozen or so pictures showing him with a stunning dark haired woman. It was apparent the majority of the photos were taken without the knowledge of the subjects. It showed them in a hotel lobby, and there were several of them in a tea room, in most of them everyone appeared to be having a fine time, talking and laughing. The one posed shot was in front of a restaurant. There were two couples, Neal and Claudette Covert, and Daryl Dixon and Phoebe McCune.

She told herself not to go there, that there was undoubtedly a simple explanation. Just because his photo had been taken several times with some beauty, that didn't mean anything. Right?

That's what she told herself, and that's what she tried to believe. The wine was going down easier and she couldn't seem to fight the tears. She just wanted to see him. She just wanted out of there.

The following day was not starting out well, she was hung over, heartbroken, her feet hurt. She wished she was anywhere besides her booth. And here came Philip Blake, all smiles like they were long lost friends. The minute his arm went to wrap around her she lifted her knee and smashed her heel down on top of his foot, just as hard as she could. He screamed so loudly it seemed half the show's attendees turned to look at him, while she simply said, "Oh I'm sorry, I simply forgot myself."

She managed to make it through the day, and she even made a couple of what she thought would turn out to be great contacts. She was grateful for that and grateful the day had gone as quickly as it had. It pays to be busy.

But she couldn't stop thinking about how this was not the life she wanted, the life she'd dreamed of. There was nothing satisfying or fulfilling about this. And she couldn't stop thinking about how handsome he looked in his overcoat standing in front of that restaurant, with a beautiful woman who wasn't her.

She took a restroom break and tried calling him again, but just like before it went straight to voicemail. The good news was she'd been able to change her flight. She'd put in her two days with the show and she wanted out of there. She'd be leaving on the late flight.

She got to Atlanta and still faced the long drive back to Savannah, but she was full of renewed energy when she saw she had a text from him, "Be home about 8 tomorrow night. Going great here, hope it is for you too. Love You."

That was better, so much better. She knew him well enough to know he wouldn't say those words if he didn't mean them. She texted back, "I'll be waiting. Love You"

By 7:30 she was waiting near his private entrance. When he arrived at shortly after eight she threw her arms around his neck, nearly causing them both to fall over. He dropped his suitcase and wrapped his arms around her waist, he was fighting a laugh, "Damn Darlin' I missed ya too."

"I know now Daryl, I know what matters and what doesn't, what's important to me and what isn't. I love you and if the offer's still good I want the shop for two, and the cabin and most of all I want you, forever."

"I want all that too Beth. All that."

He didn't even bother with the case he just carried her up to his place. Her legs were wrapped tightly around his waist, and his arms were tight around her waist as they stared hard into each others eyes, saying everything they needed to say without speaking a word. He laid her on the bed and there were no subtle beginnings, he was peeling his clothes off as quickly as she was peeling hers off.

He lay down with her, kissing her with the hunger of a starving man, his hands and fingers running over her body as he did. She wasn't shrinking from her own desire or from his, she was matching every bit of his passion, running her own hands along his shoulders, arms, chest and back.

His mouth moved to her breast while he ran the pad of his thumb over the nipple of her other breast and lightly pinched at it. They were on fire with not just their physical need but their emotional need as well. As his fingers went in search of her warmth the wetness he found there was all the proof he needed, she was ready for him. It was raw, it was almost fierce the way their bodies moved in a series of rhythmic thrusts and grinds. It wasn't long before they felt the release they'd both been craving.

Later they would take it slower, they'd prolong the inevitable finish. But for now they lay physically satisfied and knowing that they were about to embark on a life time of love tucked away in the woods and in each others arms.

Together they would create a lifetime of beautiful art.

xxxxx

 **A/N Thank you so much for reading this story. I would appreciate you leaving a comment / review. x gneebee**

 **The final chapter photo is posted to my tumblr bethylmethbrick. I also posted a Christmas chapter for** ** _Love's Highway_** **here on FF this week, and a brand new Bethyl story** ** _One Cold Night_** **. I'd appreciate you dropping in and reading those, as well as my other multi chapter Bethyl,** ** _Trouble in Mind_** **. I wish you all the Happiest of Holidays! And Remember I love ya large, xo gneebee**


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